How Many Chances (Before I Get It Right)?
by Mona001
Summary: Emma Swan is broken by love- or the lack of it. Failed relationship after failed relationship has left her jaded, with no one to blame but herself. A new move into a new place with her teenage son brings her face to face with Killian Jones. He aims to prove that her only problem is that she hadn't met him yet.
1. Prologue

"I don't want you to go, Daddy."

Emma Cassidy- Cassidy, hm- folded her arm across her chest as she leaned against the wall outside of her four-year-old son's bedroom. Hearing Henry's small sleepy voice as he pleaded with his dad broke Emma's heart. But there was nothing that she could do about it.

He was too young to understand that his dad was leaving and wouldn't be back to see him in tomorrow. He wouldn't be there to pick him up from preschool and have that special time when it was just the two of them before she made it home from work. And it would be a long time- too long of a time for a child his age- before he was able to travel across country and even see him again.

Henry wouldn't understand what divorce was or why it was. The only thing that he would understand was that it meant separation from the people he loved. And that wasn't easy for him.

So even though she knew he had to be tuckered out by The Amazing Henry Day that was all about granting every single wish and fulfilling every single dream he had in the span of an evening, she also knew that he was in no rush to see it end. He was in no rush to be rid of his father.

"I know, Henry."

Emma could hear the deep soothing rumblings from her now ex-husband, Neal, as he tried to be as gentle as possible.

"I don't want to have to go either."

"Then _stay_!"

Emma heard the springs of the bed, indicating that the tired kid had jumped up. It was with hesitation that she turned then, sneaking a peek inside the room so that she could only check to make sure…

"Henry."

He was in Neal's arms, only the mop of brown hair and arms that were wrapped tightly around Neal was visible. Four years old.

Emma swallowed the lump that was stuck in her throat, holding back from any other emotion from rearing its head. She listened quietly while Neal tried to persuade their small son to lie back down in bed. She listened as he tried to explain to him that everything was going to be just fine. And she listened the Henry's whimpers as he shook his head at Neal's words.

There was a part of her that wanted to go into that bedroom and take Henry into her own arms. She wanted to be the one to assure him that, over time, everything was going to be okay and that he didn't have to cry over the decisions that the adults in his life had made.

But she didn't go into that room. Neal would be out of Henry's life for at least a few months while he got settled. Tallahassee was nearly a full day's drive by car from Boston, and only five by plane. That's when cost came into play, and so many other details. So, until he got settled…

Emma leaned back against the wall, taking in a deep breath and holding it.

When she'd said yes to his proposal at the age of eighteen, it never crossed her mind that it would end in divorce six years later. She hadn't thought it would be all rainbows and happiness, but what she did believe at that time was that having a successful marriage and family were things that they both wanted to work hard at achieving.

And they had been achieving. Until life… separated them. When paths diverged and they were no longer on the same path that they'd began, and no longer on a path together.

So now, with a son who was taking the split the way a four-year-old would take a split, she was a divorced woman who was trying to do right. She was a woman who had to figure out how to balance this life and forget the other one.

The voices inside the room became more hush and quiet. It seemed as if Neal had finally exuded the magical touch that was needed, quieting Henry down and getting him back into bed.

It wasn't until she heard the movements again, the squeaking of the bed while losing the weight of Neal.

Emma waited there, her body flushed against the wall and her eyes closed.

It wasn't the divorce that was draining her. _That_ had been a mutual decision. It wasn't the fear of no longer having the security that the two of them had created for not only them, but for Henry as well. No, it wasn't those things.

It was the fact that she had failed in the one thing that she had wanted most out of life. She had failed in making a lifelong partnership with the one man who she could love for a lifetime. And she had failed hugely.

Emma watched as Neal moved into the hallway, her eyes trained solely on him. She pictured Henry with that same look of sadness that he carried. His head was bowed as he walked passed her.

"Hey."

And he probably hadn't even noticed her until she had said that.

It was then that his head popped up. He stood in front of her, and they each took in the other's reaction to the night.

"How did he do?" Emma whispered.

The raise of his eyebrows and the puckering of him mouth wasn't a good enough answer.

"He'll be okay," she assured him.

_She _assured _him._ Because she had to. Because she knew that in time Henry _would _be okay. Even if the adjustment period would be longer than this night here.

"He's asleep now," Neal whispered in answer. His eyes slid back towards the bedroom that he had just come out of. "I don't know, Emma. I don't know if this is the right thing to do or not."

She knew he didn't mean them. Because that was over and done with a long time ago.

She knew what he _did _mean though. And Neal's wariness only brought another sadness to the surface for her.

"You're doing the right thing, Neal," she told him, trying to keep from rolling her eyes. It shouldn't be her place to make him feel better about the decision to move more than thirteen hundred miles from his son. It wasn't her place to make him feel innocently about leaving her to be the single parent to their child. But she did it.

"Children are resilient," she continued softly, her gaze falling to the floor in front of her. "He'll get used to the arrangement. And when you come back to get him this summer, he'll be ecstatic to have you for all that time."

Emma looked back at him then. She saw that he was trying to be what he was supposed to be: strong and sure and confident in their decisions. It didn't make this any easier.

"Listen, Emma."

He was going to apologize. She absolutely hated when he tried to apologize for this.

"Please." She huffed out a small laugh and shook her head. "Please don't do it."

"I'm leaving, Emma," he reminded her. And his eyes begged for hers to meet his. "This is real."

"It's been real for months now, Neal," she reminded him, feeling the need to go tit for tat.

He paused, just staring at her as if there was a need for recognition. As if she had been the singular one to change. When it had been the both of them. Not just her.

"I don't want to leave on bad terms."

"I don't want you to leave on bad terms either, so why are you trying to begin an argument with me?"

"I'm not trying."

Maybe it was just her emotions. Maybe it was the totality of the whole situation that was trying to make her blood boil. Because it wasn't him. He wasn't attacking. So she needed to get a grip on things.

Emma took in another deep and steadying breath.

"You're leaving," she finally said softly. "You have a plane to catch in a couple of hours. And the last time we see each other for at least a couple of months should end as civilly as it began."

When she made herself look at him again, he was still staring just as intently.

"I know you don't want me to say it, Emma."

He knew it, but apparently it didn't matter to him.

"I'm sorry that this didn't work out."

At least it was sincere. And Emma knew instinctively that it was, because she was equally sorry that her six-year marriage had ended while leaving her a divorcee at the ripe age of twenty-four.

Her eyes squinted on his, wanting to hold his gaze firmly.

"I'm happy that we got out before hating each other and effecting Henry because of it."

Neal was silent for a moment. He watched her intently, taking in her words and her body language.

She had said it because it was true. She had said it because she could. In reality, things could have been a lot worse than an amicable divorce that tore their family miles apart.

Neal was slow to nod.

"Okay, Emma," he murmured. "I'm going to head out of here."

She felt the need to hug herself. What did that mean, when her ex-husband stood right in front of her, but she only wanted the comfort that she herself could give her? What it didn't mean was that her loneliness that seeped inside her was any better.

"Let us know when you get there safely," she whispered. The itch was growing stronger. So maybe he should leave now.

Neal nodded one more time. "Goodbye, Emma."

It was swift and clean after that. He turned around, heading down the hallway. Heading away from everything that had been them.

They had decided on the divorce together nearly a year ago. They had been apart for only half of that time. Emma knew that his opportunity to move up the ladder in his career had was leading him back to Florida. And the fact that he had family there had only sealed the deal for him.

The custody agreement had been as easy to figure out as anything else. Henry would go with Neal during the summer months. That way he could be in school when the time came with her. Simple. Cut and dry.

So it wasn't that. It wasn't necessarily Neal that had her heart breaking in that moment as she pressed herself once again to the wall.

She heard the door. She heard the way the hinges creaked in protest (and that wasn't a sign). She heard as the door click closed from somewhere far away from her.

And she felt the instantaneous strain of her heart. And she knew where it had come from.

Emma hadn't cried throughout the last year. Not over the loss of Neal or the loss of her marriage. It wasn't… that. No…

She felt that pain and that sadness traveling throughout her, because…

She had failed at the one thing in her life that had meant the most to her. She had failed at the one thing that made her whole.

She was now a twenty-four-year-old divorcee. She was now alone.

A career couldn't make up for the loneliness in her heart. Friendships could only console parts of her. Even Henry's love couldn't fill the void.

Emma had failed at finding love and partnership. She had failed in life. And nothing was going to change that fact.


	2. Chapter 1

**Nine years later…**

The sound of the movers coming from outside and into the apartment building made him reminiscent and on the verge of missing the elderly couple that used to occupy the apartment next to him. When the only two apartments on the ground floor of the building were occupied by the couple and himself, there had been nothing but quiet. And sometimes there was even a fresh batch cookies in it for him. (Mrs. Romano could be a sweetheart that way.)

Killian Jones was slow to rise from his bed, fingers running roughly through his hair. The window above his head was tempting- a peek maybe at what was going on? He just didn't know if he was ready to see the damage- the trucks and men who had disturbed him at so early in the morning. Who moved into a home bright and early on a Sunday morning anyway? He didn't think he was ready to find out just quite yet.

It was the ringing of his doorbell that changed his mind. Or changed his mind for him…

What if it was his new neighbor? _Is it possible that you could move your car up some so that we can get this ridiculously large couch from out here to in there? _Or the dreaded overreaction to the motorcycle that they would spot in the backyard as they made their way around. That would just be his luck…

But, Killian thought with a quick smile to himself, it was more likely that it was Liam outside his door and waiting for him. And if that was the case, then maybe it wasn't so ungodly early as he'd suggested. Maybe.

He frowned at that thought, reaching down and feeling the floor beside him for the phone he knew he'd left there. When his fingers grasped hold to it, he rolled the rest of the way out of the bed with only a slight huff.

The window was too tempting, hiding the secrets of what was going on outside. He drew the blinds up slowly, preparing himself for what was to come. And the sight made him pause. Just one of those mid-size rental moving vans. No movers to be seen. And yet, by the looks of it, they were nowhere near through with the load.

Killian pushed himself against the window, furthering the view of his gaze. It didn't tell him much about the new neighbors. But it did confirm his thoughts.

He was only a little surprised to see the minivan parked out on the street. The bump wasn't even here yet, and his brother and sister-in-law had already traded in one car for the apparently convenient family vehicle.

It was like fate when the doorbell rang again. It made the small smile on his face grow into a grin. Didn't Liam know he was leaving himself wide open for teasing from his younger brother?

Killian glanced down at his phone as he turned around. There were no missed calls, and the none of the three text messages were from Liam.

One of those messages had been from an unsaved number, but the pic of the buxom brunette conjured up memories that he wouldn't soon be forgetting. He took a mental note to get back to that one…

His steps were quick now- his feet cold against the bare floor- as he moved out of the bedroom and towards the living room. His brother wasn't usually the impatient type, so he figured he must have been musing for a while before getting off of his butt.

He couldn't stop thinking about the van that sat outside the apartment house. Maybe Ruby and the bump were with him. It really was the only viable excuse for Liam to be driving around in the family van.

The closer Killian got to the front of the apartment, the more he could make out the steps of movers and new tenants of the apartment. He only hoped that this wasn't a prelude to what was to come.

Unlike the sole apartment that was upstairs, the apartment across from his was an exact replica of this one. Two bedrooms, one bath. It made him curious as to who was moving in and how many. Was it another elder couple? Maybe a bachelor like himself? That would have been ideal. It could even be a family of sorts. And the upstairs apartment already housed a couple. No need to be the odd man out again.

Killian smiled to himself again. He remembered how he'd suggested the apartment to Liam and Ruby. It would have been a dream come true to have his family that close to him.

But, alas…

Reaching the door, he was quick to unlock it and pull it open, ready to greet his big brother.

It was the look on his face- inquiry and maybe even a bit of expectation mixed with annoyance. And maybe that was a look that he wouldn't want to see every day. Things did work out the way they did for a reason…

"Good morning, brother." It was cheerful and happy. And it was genuine. It was always genuine between the two of them.

"Good morning."

"Ah…" Killian placed a hand to his chest, stopping him in his tracks as he made a step to come inside. "I saw the van."

At first curious, the look on Liam's face turned knowingly amused.

"Ruby's not with me," he answered before he had a chance to ask.

"Oh, I guess I was assuming because…" Killian left it open-ended for his brother, only offering a mere shrug.

Liam took a step back himself and glanced down the hall. "It seems like you're getting new neighbors today."

Liam's step back made it possible for Killian to get a better look into the hall.

"Have you met them yet?"

Killian's eyes fell over to the doorway of the other apartment. It was wide open, hinting at the activity inside. He could see boxes littering the entranceway of the brightly lit apartment. He could hear those heavy steps clearly now.

"Haven't met them."

"Are you trying to right now?"

Liam's question made Killian turn. The amusement was still easily read there.

"Not particularly, no. Why?"

A strong hand came up to reach his shoulder, pushing him to one side of the doorway.

"Then you can let me in, Killian."

Of course. He bit down on his lip as he let Liam pass by him.

"By all means, go ahead," he murmured.

He was ready to follow him inside, but his gaze fell back over to the other apartment.

He watched as the two moving men walked through the door and headed back down the hall. Moving men, certainly, as signaled by the uniformed jumpsuits.

It only made him curious, as he offered a returned nod of acknowledgment to both men.

All in due time, Killian supposed. He stepped back into the apartment-

He thought he caught a glimpse of someone from the other side of the hall. Just a whisper of figure, he was sure, as he angled his head to get a better…

In that same second, she came into view, taking his breath away and knocking him softly back against the doorframe along with her.

Blonde hair- how could that not be the first thing to have caught his eye? It spilled down and over her shoulders in soft curls. But it was her eyes that grabbed and squeezed at him. It was something haunting in those eyes. That was before they locked warily on his own and held for all of a second. And that was it. She had grabbed at the door, and, essentially closed it in his face.

What had it been? Two seconds? Maybe three?

Not even a curtesy nod. And definitely not even a quick hello. Killian would have been more offended if he'd had the time to think about it. But he didn't. Because he was mentally filing away every bit of her that he could. Which, in truth, wasn't much.

The need to draw her- to capture the bits and pieces of her and make her complete- clawed at his mind in a way that made it inescapable.

He wanted to know what color were her eyes. She had been too far away to be able to make that judgment call. So he wondered… Were they blue? A blonde-haired blue-eyed beauty that had looked at him with a hint of guard. Or maybe brown, because underneath that veil that said no room for strangers, there was really a softness about her that only called from brown eyes,

Killian wanted to know was she really a jeans and T-shirt kind of a woman. The heel on those boots convinced him otherwise. It told him that there was definitely more there underneath.

Underneath?

Did his mind want to go there already about him new neighbor?

His new neighbor. Ah, she was here to stay! She would be here for him to admire and to charm… So there was plenty of time to think about what was underneath. Plenty of time to get it just right so that he could…

"What are you doing out there?"

It was Liam's voice calling to him that had finally broken the spell that she had put on him- in the space of no more than three seconds and, decidedly intentionally, no words.

Killian slipped back inside the apartment, albeit reluctantly as he glanced across the hall, closing the door behind him.

"I was… catching a glimpse at the new neighbor." His voice had gone thick, he noticed. Hm…

"The new neighbor?"

Killian looked up at Liam who was now watching him. He wanted to ignore the slight grin that was on his face, because he knew.

"So you found out that it's a woman then?"

His eyes narrowed on his big brother. "Did you see her?"

"No," Liam admitted. And that grin grew. "What I see is you though."

Killian also wanted to ignore that comment and the laugh that accompanied it. So it was obvious by the looks of him that the neighbor had been female.

Two bedrooms…

_Damn. _He hadn't had time to look for a ring. There was still a possibility that she wasn't moving in by herself. And that would be a pity.

"Don't you have enough women to occupy your time without having to go after the one who lives across the hall from you?" Liam asked him, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"Perhaps it's the journalist in me." Killian offered.

"How is that, brother?" He was still teasing. "Maybe you want to know what makes her tick."

"She…" Killian watched as Liam paused at the table, his eyes catching something. "She closed her door on me."

Liam was quick to look back at him then. "Ah, she wounded your pride a bit, is that it?"

Was it his pride? He didn't know if it was that, but…

"This is new."

Killian watched as Liam picked up the sketchbook. He had changed the subject, and he wasn't sure if he was quite ready to let go just yet.

"Yeah, it's something I'm working on."

But the sketch wasn't important. Not when…

"It looks good."

"You know what _really _looks good?" Killian murmured. His head turned, and the rest of him followed.

He heard the door again, signaling that the movers had made their way back inside again. There was a need to know more. And maybe that was the journalistic instinct in him.

Or maybe it was the simple fact that she hadn't fell for the rather dashing tousled look of his that came along with just hopping out of bed. That was an oddity unto itself. There had been time for him to notice if she had noticed. If he had time to notice and appreciate her beauty, she would have had time to notice something about him…

Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that she hadn't even given him the chance to get a proper hello out before she practically shut him out- figuratively as well as literally. Hm…

She was just a few walls away, the beautiful blonde. He had a thing with detail, but she had been so fleeting that it had not been enough. Not enough for him.

"The neighbor who most likely just signed a one-year lease that binds her to the apartment across from you for at least a year?" Liam asked in answer.

Killian let himself smile at that. He turned back around then, hoping that his brother was just as amused.

Liam was still fixed on the sketchpad for a moment before he placed it back down.

"You're right," Killian finally agreed. Even though, it was soft. Wistful.

She wasn't going anywhere, his mysterious and beautiful neighbor.

"And yet you look positively besotted at the mere glance at her."

Killian moved then, his eyes drawn to the sketchbook that Liam had put down. That particular one was almost filled. But there was enough room for her.

"Don't judge when you are married with a kid on the way," he warned him. "How do you expect me to find the love of my life if I'm not out searching for her?"

He ignored the genuine laughter from Liam and the way he grabbed at his arm. Because they both knew…

"Now that would really be something." Liam's arm tightened, but he turned quiet.

Killian looked from the book up to see what had caused the pause from his brother. And there was a sobering look.

"I'm waiting for the day, Killian." His eyebrows lifted and his hold on his arm grew. "I'm waiting for this family to regenerate itself. It would be nice. It would be good for… us."

Killian wanted to ignore that as well.

Did his brother worry about him? Because he didn't have to. He liked the way their family was about to be double of what it had been years ago. When it had only been the two of them. And now they had Ruby. And soon that bump would be more than just a bump. And two would be four. So…

Killian clapped his hand over Liam's.

"Well you never know," he told him lightly. "She could be the one."


	3. Chapter 2

She wouldn't feel shallow for using her front-facing camera to check the way she looked. There was no point in her feeling any type of way about it. The important thing was that she looked fine when Henry made it off the plane and made it into her view. And- she pushed back an errant curl- she looked _fine_. Now, for the smile…

Emma practiced that smile, making it as genuine as possible. Which was somewhat true…

It had been a long summer. Now it was over. Now it was time to get back to what normal looked like as a single mother to a newly crowned teenage son. And that, as she checked one last time, was something she was looking forward to.

She slipped the phone back into her pocket, elbow bumping into the woman beside her. The crowd was growing as they all waited for the newly landed plane to let its passengers into the airport, and she offered an apologetic wave. The crowding wasn't the worst thing about this place, but she was beyond ready for that part to be over.

It was probably more to do with anxiousness. An anxiety to have her son back and to start this new journey- this fresh start. Henry hadn't been there for the move last week. It would be exciting for him to get settled. New home. New school.

There was a pit of something forming in Emma's stomach at that thought- at that realization. It hadn't been her who had been able to offer him stability. Well… Not the way that Neal had been able to do.

Did Henry ever regret the fact that he could count the number of homes- be it rental house or apartment- on more than one hand since it had been just the two of them? Nine years and more than five different homes. A complete opposite of his experience when he spent his summers in Tallahassee with his dad. And his stepmom. And his stepsister. Not to be forgotten was the half-brother that had come from the union. (Whatever had taken root in her stomach was growing, leaving her uneasy.)

Neal's successes in life didn't mean that she had failed. It only made her worth of success all the more… insignificant. Henry had everything when he was away. A good family just sat on top of it all. Then he came home to her. Where it was just the two of them. And…

That was it. Nothing more to say.

Damn! She had just checked her face. And now…

Why was it taking forever? All she wanted to do was go home and introduce Henry to his new home. A home that she was sure that would be semi-permanent for a good amount of time. When he returned from his summer months with his dad, he would come back to the same place. He wouldn't need to adjust to changes that she had made while he was gone.

_Smile. Big smile! Happy. Happy thoughts! Not these stomach churning thoughts that would be sure to drag her down._

The passengers were filing out now. So any second she would see him. That meant smiles. For him.

How many times had she been to this airport? Too many to count. Either dropping off her son and putting him in the care of the flight attendants, or picking up her son from a long summer away. Yes, too many to count…

He'd probably put on like six inches. From the pictures he'd sent and the ones she seen on his social media sites, Emma realized that she had missed a lot. Not too much. He deserved to have his summer time with his dad and his new family. So she tried not to feel at all lonely about those months he was away. Hey, she needed time for herself as well, right?

How did she fill those hours? With work mostly. Being a visual merchandiser at one of the largest fashion stores in the city had kept her pretty busy. At least it gave her a routine. What was better than an eight to four job when routine was one of the things that kept her stable and going?

Routine gave her stability. Hard work left her mind focused. It left her with no time to dwell on the fact that it was all she had. And the only significant thing in her life besides Henry.

_Walsh._

_Why? _Not now. That had been years ago and she was over it.

There! And she felt the way her lips tried to not break into a huge smile, her mouth tightening as she watched Henry.

God! Her son was a teenager! At thirty-three, she had a thirteen year old son. And he looked every bit of those years.

He looked like his father. He took after the Cassidy's in so many ways that sometimes it hurt. There was so little of her in that regard.

"Henry!" He was close now, only some yards away.

Emma knew instantly when he had found her. His eyes had grown bright and the smile on his face was huge.

"Henry!"

He _had _grown…

He finally noticed her, his eyes falling on her and a huge grin splitting his face.

Emma would have guessed that a couple of inches actually did sneak up on him. He had to be right at five feet. If not, it would happen in a blink of an eye. Just as this growth spurt had done.

"Mom!"

Yards became feet until they were both wrapped in each other's arms. And…

In that moment, it was enough. Holding Henry in her arms, hugging him tight to her, was enough to warm her completely through.

"I missed you, kid."

Emma was happy that he let her hold him for as long as he did. Maybe he missed her just as much,

"I missed you, too, Mom." Henry pulled back then. The grin on his face was easy. And it was true that he had put on a couple of inches. Just how would he measure up if there both barefoot?

"You're a teenager." It came out in total awe. Emma's hand came up to caress the soft bare cheek. Sometimes the thought of him one day becoming a man hit her so strongly. This was one of those moments.

That smile turned into something knowing and something distinctly teenager-related.

"It's nice that you noticed, Mom."

Emma just wanted to take a minute to take everything about him in. It had been months now since she'd seen him. And now it was time to start all over again. It was time to feel out this new beginning in a familiar kind of a way.

"I missed you," she told him firmly. Her hand moved to the top of his head, smoothing down over his hair. "This is the last time I agree to let you stay an extra week."

It had been due to circumstance. The double team she had received from him and Neal had convinced her that missing the first week of school wouldn't be so horrible. It wasn't even a full week of school at that. Their mini-vacation had extended beyond the original date. He'd missed a couple days of school, as well as being able to help her move. But other than that, it wasn't that big of a deal, right?

So he had stayed.

"I missed you, too," Henry assured her easily. "I'm glad to be home." His head raised then, his eyes darting across her face. "Well at least glad to see what home looks like?"

Emma smiled down at him. And she knew that she should let him go, not hold on for so long. So it took everything in her to step back and give him his space.

"Well, we could go and get lunch while you tell me all about your summer," she suggested. "Or we could go back to the apartment and you can see what it looks like."

"I'm ready to see the new place," Henry confided in her. "I want to start getting my room together before school tomorrow."

Emma pulled him against her, her smile spreading as she felt him in her arms.

"Isn't that responsible of you," she murmured into him. "We can definitely do that."

He was home. She wasn't alone anymore. And for this brief small moment, she felt as if it was enough.

.

.

With an internal groan, she pulled the car key out of the ignition and fisted it tightly in her hand.

"The only setback that I've seen so far is the proximity of neighbors." Emma's gaze slipped over to said neighbor as he tinkered away at something low on his motorcycle. Which hadn't been the norm out in the front of the apartment house. At least not in the past week. Of course, it had only been a week…

"We've lived in apartments."

Emma turned her attention back to Henry, reading the expectation on his face.

"How will this be any different?" he finished asking. And he sounded genuinely curious about her comment.

"Well maybe it makes certain people more accessible to being 'neighborly' than you'd actually like," Emma offered. It sounded good and plausible to her. If it sounded confusing to him though, then she wouldn't be surprised.

"Are you… having problems with our new neighbor?" His focus turned past the dashboard and onto the man before them. "Already, Mom?"

That earned him a small smile. He made it seem as if _that _was the norm…

"I'm not difficult to get along with, am I?"

Henry turned again, looking back at her. And he took just a moment to really look her over. And she refused to feel self-conscious over it.

"Mom, I would never be the one to accuse you of being prickly."

Now those words earned him a scoff. And a squint of her eyes as she thought about that.

"Prickly?" _Prickly. Who? Her? _"Why would you even say that?"

"I said that I _wouldn't_ accuse you of that," Henry reminded her. He turned his attention to his seat belt then, but Emma still saw the hidden smile.

_Prickly. Hm…_

"I don't think he thinks I'm _prickly," _she muttered as she unfastened her own seatbelt. And she ignored the distinctly amused laugh of her son beside her.

Emma reluctantly glanced back up at the man crouching down in their yard. It had been one week, and…

She didn't like the way he looked at her. She didn't like the easiness of his smiles and the appreciative glint in his eye when she passed by him. And it was bordering on strong annoyance that she notice that that smile was accentuated by twin dimples on either side of his cheeks and his eyes were a deep and crystal blue. Those details had been hard to ignore when he took his sweet time watching her whenever the chance arose.

An apartment house was different that an apartment complex. This arrangement was more residential- more personal- than that of a building that had housed twelve or so apartments. Here, there was more shared space. More of those instances of being personable with a certain set of people. And in this instance, she was stuck with the very good looking man who continuously reached out.

"Are you ready, Mom?"

Emma watched as Henry's hand gripped the car door. He was watching her expectantly. And even if she wasn't sure if she was ready to make the quick passing by of them in front of him, she was ready to show Henry their new home.

"Grab the bags from the trunk," she told him, pressing the button so that the trunk popped open.

He was already out of the car, and she watched as his quick steps brought him to the back of the car.

Emma moved a bit slower. If they could get into the apartment without having to share more than a nod of acknowledgment to the man crouching there, then it would be a good day.

"Do you need any help?"

_Why did it have to be instant?_

His voice was lilting and friendly. The accent had been a surprise the first time she had heard it. Which shouldn't have been the case when looking at him. A transplant, most definitely. Not an American, but she would have guessed that he'd been here long enough. She wouldn't be phased by something she saw as a gimmick properly used to lure others into a false sense of security.

It wasn't his voice though, she realized as she looked over to see him rising slowly from his crouching position. Instead, it was that quick and easy grin that made her wary. That grin and that slight lift of his eyebrow that read more than just friendly. Why couldn't he mind his own business? Why did he feel the need to encroach himself on her? Neighbors!

"No thank you," Emma called tersely.

Where was the tension coming from? She didn't know why it began, but she felt it creeping from somewhere down deep and spreading evenly and slowly.

"Are you sure?"

Persistent, wasn't he? He had completely abandoned the bike and was making his way over to them. Persistent and on the verge of annoying.

It wasn't the lack of being able to take no for an answer. It was the fact that there was little regard for her wishes- as if it meant nothing to him.

She felt the way her mouth set in a firm line. It had been involuntary, the reaction to him walking up to the car. Or was it more of a saunter? As if he had any right to be so bold. As if he had any right to put himself into a situation pertaining to only her. She didn't like it.

"I said no thank you." It was as stiff as her stance. But she couldn't help either reaction.

"Because it would be no problem."

He stood directly in front of her then. She felt as if that smile was just for her, taunting. It was as if he was making fun of her for… God only knew what.

"Mom?"

Henry appeared from behind the trunk. There was a bag hanging from his hand and a curious look on his face. And that look was shared between her and the neighbor.

"Mom?"

As if it was any of his business…

It was a look of disbelief written on his face, his blue eyes widening just a bit at her. And then he turned towards her son.

"Yes, my son," Emma confirmed stiffly. Why did it matter to him anyway?

He only threw her a quick glance over his shoulder at her. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just… had no idea." He turned back to Henry then.

_Which held no relevance either…_

Emma didn't know if it was the protective mother instincts in her, or if she was being her unusually guarded self. Most likely the latter. It was something that she could be conscious of, but it didn't make it easier to sway.

Her neighbor hadn't meant anything by his questions and comments. So… she just needed to breathe.

"I'm Killian." Her neighbor's greeting to Henry was accompanied by a hand shooting out. "It's nice to meet you, lad."

_Killian._ She hadn't known his name before that moment. It had been a week and it hadn't crossed her mind to find out that bit on information. It made him more real. _Killian._ Just as she had warned Henry of. Personable…

She wasn't surprised by the easiness of Henry's smile. She wasn't surprised that he had quickly took his hand to shake.

"Hi. I'm Henry." His shrug was small and just as comfortable. "It's nice to meet you, too."

What was happening right in front of her? This is exactly what she had just warned Henry about. Getting so chummy with the neighbor who obviously had no problem with being so friendly.

"I live across the hall from you guys," Killian continued to explain. He was quick to turn back towards her then, that smile plastered on his face. "And we haven't been formally introduce either." And that hand shot out again. "Killian Jones."

Emma was hesitant. He had found his way in. Had jumped at the chance to do more than just glance at her in passing. Opportunist!

She bit the inside of her cheek, the annoyance growing, before she finally shared.

"Emma Swan."

Her neighbor- Killian- sank his teeth into his lip, keeping the grin to an appropriate level. But she knew. He had got exactly what he had wanted: her name.

"It's nice to finally meet you as well, Ms. Emma Swan?" But there was something curious in that glance as he watched her.

Emma would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that bit of information. Yes, she was a _Ms_. once more. Had even opted to go back to her maiden name. Neal had moved on. So… had she.

His eyes fell over to the trunk of the car. "You have quite a number of bags here. Let me help you."

It was instinctive that she wanted to protest the offer. Watching him move closer to Henry and the trunk didn't help the situation.

"That'll be okay, right, Mom?"

Henry was looking at her expectantly. He was looking at her like a child who didn't understand what it meant when a person was using persuasion to get what they wanted. It was clear to her. So clear that Killian had seen an opening and went for it.

But her son…

Emma raised her hands in the air, feeling both fed up and ready to give in.

"Fine."

Her steps towards the trunk were quick. She ignored the man who stood beside her, and instead picked up the suitcase closest at her reach.

She needed to get a handle on the irritable reaction that she'd had- the reaction that _he _had caused.

It was with a huff that the bag fell from the trunk, Emma gripping it tightly against her. She moved then, refusing to show any outward reaction further than what she had already, and moved towards the door of the apartment house.

_A bit touchy, your mom is, yes?_

"I heard that," she muttered.

It took everything inside her to not turn around and throw them both a look of surprise.

Touchy? Synonymous with prickly?

Maybe one quick look…

She saw the hint of a smile of Henry's face as he looked up at Killian. And Killian…

Huffing up two of the suitcases into his hands without a hint of a problem, his smile there for the world to see.

Touchy, she may be. But annoyed was such a better word for what she was right then.

.

.

The kid angle was an interesting one. Not one that he had expected. And it wasn't a young kid. Henry- Emma's son's name was Henry. _Her _name?

It had been a full week, and he'd finally found out her name. Killian hadn't been sure if it was going to take bribing the mailman to find out or not. He was a patient man, but it was something that piqued his interest beyond belief. Her name could be a gateway to knowing so much more about her.

_Emma. _It suited her.

He'd never been this close to her.

Her eyes! They were blue. They weren't even brown as he had envisioned. How had green not crossed his mind? And how had he ever thought that any other color would be more perfect? Green. Yes, green.

Was he smirking too much? Perhaps so, because she still seemed as annoyed as she'd been… in every other of their encounters. His infiltration into her home only made the annoyance grow. But there was something about her standoffishness that intrigued him anyway. It only made him want to get underneath those layers. Because nothing could convince him that there wasn't more underneath.

There were too many questions bubbling up to the surface that wanted to spill out of his mouth. But it was the way she hooked that long lock of blonde hair behind her ear that told him that she might not be receptive of that. It was the way she moved carefully around the whole of the couch, not having met his eyes in all the time he had been in the apartment with her that made it nearly impossible to follow his first mind.

Killian knew it wasn't timidity that forced her gaze from his. He knew it wasn't total dislike for him as the reason she was probably mentally shooing him out the door.

"I like it, Mom."

_Second bedroom mystery solved. _

Henry emerged from down the hall, coming from his bedroom. There was a huge smile on the young teen's face as he looked at Emma.

He put the boy at thirteen. Which made him estimate her age at maybe… thirty and thirty-three (she couldn't be any older than that).

"My room is even bigger than the last one," he told her.

Definitely single mom…

There were too many questions.

"Aye, it is a beautiful apartment," Killian chimed in. "It is exactly laid out as my own."

She looked up at him then, those eyes cutting through him and his small talk.

"Thank you so much." She was moving then, towards him. But it wasn't friendly. It was rather cold, to be honest.

It only made Killian smile. The tightening of her mouth told him that she didn't like that either.

"With… the luggage?" he asked innocently enough.

She was closer than she'd ever been in that moment. And there was a scent of something sweet. _Ah, there was a need to know what cocktail made up that scent that was uniquely Emma Swan's._

"My son has just made it home from a long trip," she continued softly.

Killian couldn't help the way his eyes took an appreciative glance from booted toe to golden head one more good time.

"So…"

Finally, he met her guarded eyes with his amused ones.

"Oh, is that my line to exit?"

He would have bet any amount of money that the role of her eyes was involuntary in that second.

"Well, if you don't mind," she offered pleasantly.

_Oh, this Emma Swan_…

"I knew you could do sweet," Killian told her smoothly, the corners of his lips lifting just slightly.

It was that roll of her eyes that made him want more. But, his eyes slid over to Henry, an audience wasn't warranted.

It was difficult to bite hit tongue on this one. There were so many questions that he had yet to ask. Of them both. But maybe… maybe this wasn't the right time.

"Well, like I said." Killian looked back to her.

She had angled her body away, annoyance so easily read.

"Emma?" And he waited. Waited for her to at least look at him again. So that he could see those eyes and the pink lips that were permanently a single line.

"It's nice that I was finally able to get to know a little more about you," Killian told her softly, And those eyes, looking at him but guarded by something as mysterious as the first time he'd seen her. "I'm just across the hall. No need to be strangers anymore, no?"

"Well, I guess we'll just have to see about that." She turned on her heel with that, taking her leave.

"Thank you, Mr. Jones."

Killian turned his attention to Henry then, who was making his way into the living room. Where his mother was lacking in hospitality, her son made up.

"It's Killian," he corrected. And he offered him a friendly smile.

Henry had been his way in. If not for the boy, there was no telling how long it would have been before she'd open that door. And for that, he was grateful. For that, there was a special thanks to be given.

"Okay" Henry smiled. "Killian."

He'd been on vacation. Emma had said plane, so he was sure that he'd been gone for at least a week and most likely longer. Perhaps with his father.

Killian felt the need to dig deeper, but he was also good with reading situations. This was not the time that he was going to get more out of her. And she would be protective of her son since they'd just been reunited.

"Then I'll be off," he told them with a huff. "See you around."

Emma didn't turn back towards him, deciding to grab one of the bags left on the floor and pulling it towards the hall.

It was Henry who walked with him to the door, offering a returned smile.

Killian grabbed at the doorknob, swinging the door open just wide enough.

"She's not always so touchy."

It was Henry's words from behind him that had made Killian turn. The look of ease and knowing on the boy's face was quite telling. _He _was quite telling.

"I'm sure that's true."

More questions began storming through his mind. But now wasn't the time.

"Take care of her," Killian told him.

It must have been a peculiar statement for the boy to hear, because he was slow to bob his head, his eyes not quite meeting Killian's.

"Bye, Killian."

And there was no more to be said. Not now.

He gave Henry a single nod.

"Goodbye."

He pulled the door open wider and- not giving in to the want to see her just once more- slid out into the hallway. The door was shut closed softly and…

Killian turned quickly back around to face that door.

What was the cause for the hard outer shell? What was it going to take to break through it?

Another smile crossed his face as he placed a flat hand against the door. Emma Swan would be more of a challenge that he'd first believed. But, he thought as his hand smoothed down the wood, he did love a challenge. And he had all the confidence in the world that it could be done.

.

.

Emma fell down on the couch that had been behind her. She looked up to Henry who still stood at the door.

"And now that we're alone," she said with a sigh, "tell me what you think."

Henry turned around to look at her. It only took her patting down the spot on the couch beside her to get him to move towards her.

"I like it, Mom," he told her with a nod. "So… was it Killian that you were warning me about when you were talking about neighbors?"

His question caught her off guard. He had changed the subject from them to the neighbor.

"Well you see how he was, Henry." She watched him closely as he sat down beside her.

"You mean how… he offered to help?"

It was apparent that he didn't see things the way that she did…

"Exactly." Her hand moved to the top of his head, smoothing over his hair once again.

"Mom?"

There was a pause as he looked at her.

"Yeah, Henry?"

"You got here last Sunday, right?"

She nodded. She knew that he knew that. "Yeah?"

The smile on his face was small as he watched her closely. "I think Killian offered to help because he likes you, Mom."

What was she supposed to say to that stunned declaration from her son?

"Henry… Henry…" she stammered. "I… don't think…"

"I have to get my stuff unpacked," Henry said, stopping her thoughts where they were right there. "And then maybe we can go out to eat?"

Emma watched him as he stood back up.

"Um… yeah. We'll go get something to eat. And you can tell me about Tallahassee and your family. It'll be great."

"Then," he said, backing away from her and heading out of the living room, "I'll be quick."

Emma nodded again. "Okay. Great."

And as Henry disappeared back towards the hallway and away from her, Emma shook her head.

No, she would not think about what her son had just put out there for her to ruminate on. She would not think about the way her heart stammered just a bit or how it was ready to throw up walls so high that it would take more time than what Henry was offering to come down just enough.

No.

No.

She was going to file his comments away for as long as possible. And she would concentrate on the matter at hand: settling herself and her son into this new life that was now theirs.

Because that was what Emma was good at. Pushing through and burying.

Yes, that sounded… just right.


	4. Chapter 3

Killian stared intently at the computer screen in front of him. The article was… it was incomplete! There was something missing …

tax tweaks and budget cuts were one thing to cover. They just weren't the type of political story that had the grasp of holding his attention. At least not right now. But it was the piece that he had been assign to cover. It was his current story he was working on. And deadlines had to be met sooner rather than later.

He pushed himself and his chair away from the desk, putting space between him and the problem. Maybe the information was there in his notes somewhere, either in his computer saved in a file or even written as a note somewhere on the desk in front of him. Hopefully so, because if he didn't find it there, it was going to mean taking a trip downtown and harass officials about the mayor's intent. And that meant a longer day.

His focus drew to the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen. A trip would mean not making it home in time to meet Liam and Ruby. And Ruby didn't take kind to being kept waiting. That hadn't actually improved in the six months that she'd been pregnant.

Being late would also interfere with his usual routine of checking out the neighbor when she usually strolled in at about four twenty on the weekdays (give or take a few minutes).

Killian smiled to himself at that thought. Had he really memorized the times where there paths could maybe cross? Well… yes. But it would be a difficult thing for him not to notice.

Emma Swan was up and out of her apartment before he was up. He would have guessed that she left somewhere around seven o'clock. It would make sense because he had seen Henry out around the time he himself was leaving for the newspaper, walking towards some bus stop that would lead him to school.

His teeth caught and held his lip as he looked at that computer screen. It was possible that he could make a phone call first. And that could be done at home… Killian was thankful for his lenient work schedule: his mornings were held at the office when most of his afternoons- unless pressing news otherwise didn't permit- he worked at home. Although he freelanced at the Boston Globe, his work between there and the online paper were quite balanced. So…

It was the mysterious Emma Swan that had now popped into his mind and wouldn't leave him alone. His quiet and sheltered neighbor who only wanted to stay that way.

It would be so easy to dig up some information on her. Not that he wanted to dig deep, because it was nothing better than getting information straight from the source (and he wanted to hear it all from those gorgeous lips). But that didn't mean that a little social media check wouldn't be beneficial. A quick glance at the more popular sites that just about anyone would have, even if the information wasn't always kept up to date. Maybe even a picture or two of her with a smile on her face instead of that permanent scowl.

Killian moved his fingers over the mouse, debating with himself back and forth over the pros and cons of where his mind was taking him. If only he'd felt as if he was making some headway with her.

Emma had reluctantly let him into her home- all at the maneuvering and quick skill he had in him. Then again, there hadn't been much of a breakthrough since then.

He needed a way in. Because there was something there. He knew it from way down deep that there was something there. Behind those wary eyes. Behind that firm mouth. And he needed to know more.

So… Killian's hands closed over the mouse, moving to save and close the file.

Emma Swan.

Tempting… But… not just yet.

He could do it on his own. Not with easy access of social media sites at his fingertips. No, he was better than that. She would give in to him before he had to stoop to digging through Facebook, Twitter, or even scrounging through photos on Instagram.

Even more tempting. She was a young mother. A mother of a teenage son. But that, or the stiff demeanor, didn't mean it was the only aspect of her life. He knew that there was a genuine smile hiding inside of there. He would find it.

A genuine smile. For him. From her.

If he couldn't coax that out of her- highly doubtful- then he wasn't Killian Jones.

.

.

Killian's mouth had just started to open when the phone in his pocket began to ring. There was a lot of things processing all of a sudden in his mind at that exact moment. The sketching pad that Liam had absentmindedly picked up from the kitchen counter had also caught his eye. He wasn't sure just which one that one was. He had a habit of laying them all around the apartment with little regard. The habit was one that he'd had for years, and one he knew his brother knew about. They ended up laying wherever inspiration had struck, along with a variety of pens and pencils. And the one Liam was now holding in his hands and flipping through…

He didn't think that Emma Swan was in _that_ book. So far, he had controlled the urge and kept any drawings to one specific book. And… his eyes squinted tightly and he felt the quickening of his heart… he didn't think that was the one.

Killian slipped his hand into his pants pocket, fishing out the phone as his eyes locked on his brother.

"Interesting, Killian." The murmur wasn't conclusive enough.

Killian glanced down at the phone in his hand before doing a double-take. Even the idea of Liam seeing any of the few drawings he'd done of his new neighbor wasn't enough to draw his attention from the known number flashing in front of him. And he was almost sure that it wasn't the right sketchbook…

A slow smile crept on his face. She was calling, and…

"I have a feeling."

There was a look of piqued interest on Liam's face as he watched him. The book was dropped back to the counter as he looked only at Killian.

"Who is that?"

Killian slid his thumb over the bar, connecting the call. He held a hand for his brother to be quiet and listen. "Hello."

"Killian, sweetie."

So she wasn't irritated, he mused. He bit down on his lip instantly to keep his smile to a minimum. Watching Liam, he pressed down on the speaker button to turn it on.

"Jessica, love. How… are you doing?"

He watched Liam's shoulder go up in a knowing shrug. It only made Killian's smile grow to watch him turned back to the book and start flipping pages.

"I could be better," she whispered softly. "It's been a while."

And that whisper conjured up thoughts of the lips that had spoken those words. Soft lips that liked to press kisses behind his ear, while his hand splayed through the cute and chic dark pixie cut. There were other places she liked to kiss him as well. And other places his hands liked to splay…

"It… has… been a while," Killian agreed.

Maybe it was the tone of his voice that forced Liam's head up from gazing at the book. The interest was back as his eyes seemed to light up and the corners of his mouth lifted.

"Why don't we change all of that with dinner?" Jessica suggested.

A nice suggestion. One that could lead to more suggestions. Maybe so enjoyable after-dinner activities…

"That sounds good," he murmured into the phone.

But it was the way Liam looked from the sketch book to him, and the strange look in his eyes, that gave Killian pause. It was the way his eyes locked on him as he began moving towards him.

He had been sure that nothing was in that book, but…

Emma Swan was a classic beauty that was shrouded in dark mystery. He'd had the pleasure of being up close- but unfortunately not too personal- on very few occasion. Frankly, too few as the weeks passed. So he wasn't sure how to capture her just right. There had been something missing, it was an innate belief that something was missing, and those pieces are what kept the drawings from being just right.

"We could go to…"

Oh.

Jessica.

Damn. How had he gone from imagining being wrapped up in her to imagining the perfection that was the enigmatic presence from across the hall?

"What's this?" Liam whispered, now standing directly in front of him.

What the hell was it? He had the book turned away from him, so how in the hell could he defend his drawing or defend the feelings he'd had about her or defend the need to know more about her?

"Killian?"

Damn! Jessica.

"Jessica, love?" His accent was thick on that question. If he remembered correctly, she had an absolute affinity for that accent. And he knew how to use those advantages. "I would adore the opportunity to get together with you-"

He ignored the playful nod of Liam's head and the smirk on his face. Well, the point wasn't to charm his brother…

"I'll just have to call you back later," he continued to tell her. And he poured on the charisma, despite his brother finding pure amusement in it.

It didn't take much- a few words of regret and remorse. She may not have been the one exclusive woman in his life- and he definitely was not the only man in hers- but they had their fun. And quick promises of a day, or night, together had ended the short conversation.

"I'm holding you to this, Mr. Killian Jones."

It was Liam who reacted to the sweetness of her voice. Shaking his head, he finally turned the book around.

It wasn't Emma Swan. Well, of course it wasn't.

"I will… see you soon, Jessica." His head tilted as he searched Liam's face. Why the smirk at this particular drawing?

"Goodbye, Killian."

And with the sing-song voice of the beautiful woman filling the quiet room, he disconnected the call without another single word.

"Hm, any possibility that this… Jessica _may_ be the one?"

"The one?" Killian felt the sharp drop of his brow at Liam's question. "The one?" And then it hit him, of course. "Jessica is not the one."

"Because I thought…"

"So the drawing?" Killian cut off his brother, stopping the conversation from going any further.

He watched as that drew Liam's attention straight down to the book.

"It's beautiful," he acknowledged. There was an awe about the way he said it. "Ruby is beautiful here."

He'd finished the drawing just yesterday. Ruby was an absolutely beautiful pregnant woman. At six months, the bump wasn't that big at all. But there was definitely something about the way she now glowed. And in this particular drawing, with hands wrapping protectively over that bump, sweeping strands of browns and reds of her hair closed over them both, he thought that he had captured her well. And maybe the bump had been accentuated a bit.

"She's not _this _pregnant yet." A small smile quirked Liam's mouth. "So unless you want her to bite your head off, I suggest that you don't let her see this for at least a month."

Even in his jest, there was a tenderness in the way that Liam looked down at the drawing of his wife. It was so easy to see. Just as it had always been.

Lucky in love was his brother. A love that was deserved and returned. Sometimes… it was unbelievable to himself.

"Ah…" Killian felt the sudden twitch of his own lips as the curved up. "I agree with you."

"Speaking of…" Liam threw a quick hand to Killian's shoulder as he moved passed him. The book was placed back on the counter, with care, where he'd found it.

Killian watched as he went to the refrigerator and opened the door. Well, there _had_ been a reason for them coming back inside the apartment.

"We better get going before she has our heads for leaving her outside for so long."

Hm, he could imagine that as well. Ruby was a nice a beautiful girl, but never let it be said that there wasn't a toughness to her.

The absolute perfect match for Liam.

Looking down at his hand, he noticed the phone that he was still holding.

Jessica. Yes.

Beautiful girl.

And yet…

It wasn't the raven-haired beauty, whose touch he knew intimately, that entered his mind. At least not for long, before being booted out by…

The shutting of the refrigerator door, along with the clinking of beer bottle to beer bottle, made Killian look back up at his brother. Sliding the phone into his pants pocket, he offered a bright smile.

"It's a beautiful day out. I'm sure Ruby is fine sitting out on the porch."

"Yes, I'm sure."

Bottles of beers and water hanging from his fingers, he offered Killian a smile. "But, to be on the safe side."

Killian felt the involuntary poke up his lip.

"Well, to be on the safe side."

He turned then, smiling even wider at the thought of his family. Who would ever disagree: the dynamics were amazing!

.

.

"What are you staring at?"

Had he been staring? Killian smiled across the length of the walk out porch, gazing at his sister-in-law. Ruby's face, that was now actually plump since before the pregnancy, had a look of positive inquiry.

She looked comfortable enough, leaning back in the plastic lawn chair. Maybe he had been staring. But it was the bump that had really held his attention, poking out like never before. His drawing was still- he'd say it- a month off.

She'd adore it. Possibly in a month.

"I was just thinking about the kid," he answered her with an easy smile.

Ruby's hands clasped automatically over that bump.

"Oh, yeah?" Her pout only made her plumpness all the more noticeable. "It's been six months, but it feels like a lifetime."

"You look good, Ruby," he assured her with a smirk.

It wasn't a thankful or satisfying smile that was returned. From Ruby? Of course not. It was a glare of shrewdness.

"Shut up, Killian." And with that admonishment, she turned her head away from him.

It almost made him laugh, his sister-in-law and her bluntness that was on the verge of shortness. But his thoughts turned just then…

The look in her eyes made him think of Emma Swan. It reminded him of a look that he had often seen on her face. Often? It was basically the _only _look he had seen on her face.

Would the two of them get along with one another? It was a question that had crossed his mind. But he simply did not know enough about the woman who lived across the hall from him. And it made him realize how he really needed to know more about the woman across the hall.

The woman who had no problem ignoring him at any and every turn. The woman who ignored the charming (if he did say so himself) smile that he generously gave. The woman who ignored the simple hellos and walked past as if she'd heard nothing.

And here he was thinking about things that held no relevance. At least not at this time. But maybe it would someday…

"Are you still thinking about the baby?"

Killian's eyes locked on Ruby's quickly, giving in to her question and pulling him back into reality. Because this right here- him at home with his brother and sister-in-law spending a lazy afternoon together- was the truth.  
>"Because I get the feeling…"<p>

"I'm wondering how you two could possibly wait for the birth of my first ever niece or nephew before any of us find out if it's my _niece _or if it's my _nephew_," Killian offered instead of the truth. Because there was no reason to divulge his thoughts of Emma to her.

"Well, I don't know if it's the hormones- I said shut up, Killian…"

So there had been a quick-witted joke on the tip of his tongue. Who had told her to be so smart as to catch it before it had the chance to slip out?

"I said nothing, love," he whispered softly across to her, shaking his head.

"We were thinking about going ahead and finding out at the next appointment," Ruby breathed out.

That was an absolute surprise that had him sit straight up in his seat.

"Liam didn't tell me that."

Ruby threw an easy shoulder up in a shrug. "Like I said, we're thinking about it. We may change our mind before the day comes."

"Because sometimes… we change our minds."

It was easy to read between his brother's words as he pushed through the door. There was no doubt about who was in charge on that end of things.

The two bottles of beer and the single bottle of water hung from Liam's hands as he made his way outside.

Killian was quick to stand up from his seat, moving to meet his brother half way.

But Liam had eyes only for Ruby. There was his own smirk on his face as he absentmindedly held out one of those bottles for Killian.

She had been around for three years. Only three years? Sometimes that didn't seem possible. Sometimes it didn't feel right. Not when she had turned not only his brother's life on its side with a love that would be sickening sometimes. (It never made it to that phase.) She had also affected Killian's life as well.

It had always been the two of them, even when their mother was still living. The four-year age gap had only meant that Liam had been in charge, for the most part. It meant that he was the big brother and got to make the decision. It had meant, when their mother had died the summer Killian was to go off to university, it was Liam who took the helm to both of their lives.

At least he was now an adult.

That was a thought he'd often had. It had been sudden. So quick. And…

His mind didn't want to go there. Thinking of his mother who had put her sons above all else. It was the only thing she could do after their father had left years before.

No problem of not focusing on him. Those memories were brief and almost non-existent. But Liam had always told him that he was lucky that he'd only been four when their father had abandoned the family. He wasn't _stuck _with the memories that wouldn't escape Liam.

That was one way to look at it.

Since the age of eighteen, it had been only him and his brother. And when Liam had told him to pack up his bags because they were leaving for America, (_It's time for a fresh new start, little brother.) _Killian had only momentarily pondered the validity of such a venture. All these years later, he'd known it had been the only decision to make.

That had been more than ten years ago. And Liam had been right. For all the circumstances that had made up his life, for all the positives that he'd experience, it had come at the hands of his brother's decision to take the leap.

The outcome was this right here. A family that was growing. Stemming from a place of true love. It would have been so easy to have given up in life at the age of eighteen. But it hadn't happened. _This- _family, career, life-had happened. All because of Liam.

So the fact that his brother had his own personal success? The fact that he was the one with the budding family? That was the only way this could have been right.

"Our next ultrasound isn't for a couple of weeks now," Liam said, placing a hand on the shoulder of his wife. "There's plenty of time to decide."

"Killian?"

He turned his attention to Ruby, who was watching him with interest.

"This is one of the biggest surprises that we could ever experience," he reminded her. "So it's a big decision."

"Oh, no." He shook his head, refusing to laugh or smile. "I completely understand." Which he did. "I'm still pulling for a nephew. At least for bump number one."

"Hey… Killian?"

Liam's gaze had fell from Ruby and went towards something off of the porch.

Killian followed where he'd lead. And he knew instantly what his question was.

"That's Henry."

"Who's Henry?"

Yes, this was the normal time that he made it home from school. His routine had been noted by Killian a while ago. The bus dropped him off some block away. From there he walked back here.

His mom usually didn't make it home for another hour or sometimes two, leaving Henry home alone during that time.

"He is Emma's son," he answered.

"Ah, the infamous Emma," Ruby said softly. "Swan, right?"

What had Liam told her about Emma Swan? And why?

"Yeah."

Turning back to his family and seeing the shared looks between them both caused the frown on his face.

"What's that for?"

Liam moved then, slipping into the seat next to Ruby.

"I told her about your new neighbor."

That was an interesting fact. "You don't _know _anything about my new neighbor. So what could you have actually shared?"

"Just that you have a thing for her is all," Ruby shared. "And she has a teenage son that you don't mind either."

"Did you also tell her about Jessica?" Killian asked softly. "Because that's only fair."

"Who is Jessica?" Ruby turned swiftly back towards Liam with that.

The smile on his face was small, but bright. "Just one of the many."

"Oh." Her gaze found Killian's again. "Did you notice how we singled out neighbor Emma Swan instead of placing her in the bubble with all 'the others?'"

Ah! The air quotes that accompanied the question was… cute.

"I noticed." And she had dared to laugh. Right at him. "Ruby, be quiet."

"Hi, Killian."

The turn was quick, the sound of the boy's voice a bit surprising.

"Henry." He was taking the steps two by two, placing him on the porch before them. "How was school today?"

He stopped right beside him, his fingers gripping the straps of his backpack.

"It was fine."

It was something about the way he stood there. It was with an ease and assuredness. Why could his mother be the same way?

Henry turned his attention to the two new faces.

"Oh, Henry." Killian placed a moved closer to him, placing a hand to his shoulder. "My apologies. This is my brother, Liam, and my sister-in-law, Ruby. You may see them around a bit."

The exchange of pleasantries between the trio was easy as well. Quick smiles and "hi's" from all around.

But there was something about the way Ruby and Liam were looking at him.

"I'll see you around later, Killian?" Henry said slowly, moving closer towards the door and away from them.

"I will see you around," he called to him, watching the young boy as he carefully moved inside. "Hey, Henry?" Because he wasn't standoffish like his mother. Because he was, quite possibly, the best way in.

Henry turned back to him, a look of curiosity on his face.

"If you ever need anything," Killian told him, "I'm across the hall. I noticed that your mom doesn't make it home for a little bit. So… if you ever need anything."

He nodded, and his smile was a bit curious-looking to Killian.

"Um, yeah." His eyes fell over the three of them now, and that smile grew. "Thanks, Killian." And then he stepped back, moving farther inside, and disappearing down the hall.

"He looks like a good kid."

Ruby's murmur was soft. Her eyes fell from Liam and onto Killian.

"He does seem like a good kid." There was nothing else to do _but _agree with her.

And as far as he could tell, Killian could do nothing but agree with that statement.

"I think he is a good kid. Being raised by a good mom." He heard the close of the apartment door. He knew that Henry had made it inside.

"I… want to meet the mom."

There was a smile in Ruby's voice. And one on her face, he saw, as she looked at Liam.

"What? Why?"

"She is _not _one of 'the others.'" It was directed to his brother, and a shared looked went between them.

"She's not one of the others."

At least husband and wife could agree on something.

"Ruby?"

Killian didn't know where they could possibly go with their thoughts.

"Yeah?"

She ran through his mind so quickly: blonde hair, guarded green eyes, sweet pink mouth. The fact that he didn't know much else about her other than the physical was beginning to become an annoyance.

"Be quiet," he whispered to Ruby.

It was out of the corner of his eye, as he twisted the cap off of his beer, that he saw her hands fall over the bump. But at least she was quiet. Who were either one of them to categorize a woman in his standards? Especially when they knew nothing about her.

For now- just right now…

The first sip of beer was ice cold and hit the spot.

For now, he would put Emma Swan out of his mind.

.

.

He heard the door when it closed. Or maybe he had been listening for it. He was able to draw in different atmospheres, but in this moment he had chosen to work in the still and quiet.

Killian knew that it was Emma finally getting home. And there was a part of him that was happy that Ruby and Liam had made their departure some time before that. He hadn't liked Ruby's sudden interest in his neighbor. It left him with an awkward feeling way down deep. It would be better if they kept their minds on… huh… "the others" as they liked to call them.

Sitting on the couch, the pencil stilled in his hand as her presence became noticeable. The sound of heavy steps of booted feet and the rustling of plastic bags. Maybe a lot of bags.

The pencil balanced right on the tips of his fingers, the thought of being neighborly filling his mind.

No…

Not now. Not when she was just making it home from a day that had been longer than usual.

It had to be after five o'clock. She was normally home by this time. She was probably tired from work. (He really had to figure out some of the specifics, like her job. This wasn't like him.)

She was probably tired from carrying bags up the steps and into the house. But if she had wanted help then she would have had her son meet her to carry some of the weight.

The steps had ceased, and so had the rustling. She would have been at the door, about to go in.

_To hell with it…_

The pencil and sketchbook both fell to the floor as he jumped up from the couch.

He hadn't actually seen her in a couple of days. It would be nice to be reminded of those eyes. He wouldn't even mind if it was accompanied by pursed lips and a begrudging hello. The rarity of a hello from Ms. Emma Swan was enough to overlook the rigidity of it all.

Damn, was that the door?

Killian moved faster, one hand reaching out for the deadbolt and the other reaching for the doorknob.

Damn. He had hesitated. He had questioned giving her privacy for too long that…

Killian swung the door open, being greeted by a matching closed door across the hall.

He'd missed her.

So how was it that he could picture those intensity of those eyes as they glared warily at her? Why did he envision the crispness of her dress and the crispness of her gaze as she turned and shut the door in his face?

Killian caught his bottom lip with his teeth.

Damn.

But maybe it was for the best.

He pushed himself back into his own apartment, closing the door behind him.

Well, it was probably for the best.

His smile, walking back from where he'd dropped everything, was small.

Emma Swan. Or _the others. _

If he had to choose…

The sketchbook had been left splayed open on the floor on the page he was working on.

But he didn't have to choose.

Killian picked up the dropped book and pencil before falling back on the couch. Emma Swan may be across the hall, without a lingering thought of him now. But he had at least a year. A year to learn about the many different facets that made her up. So this was nowhere near a setback.

He turned the upside down book up in the correct position, seeing the nearly halfway done drawing of sunset at the Midland pier.

A first date with the backdrop of a setting sun?

Aye. A man could dream.

.

.

"Hey, Killian."

Killian pulled his bag tighter over his shoulder as he looked at the boy. He was heading in the opposite direction than he should have. With his hand on the apartment door and the key inserted into the keyhole, he was returning instead of leaving.

"Good morning," he greeted him a bit cautiously. "What are you doing, Henry? Heading off to school?" He'd usually been gone before Killian…

Henry's hand tightened on the knob and he took in a deep breath.

"I missed the bus. So I guess I'm stuck unless I can get my mom to come get me."

"From work?"

He didn't know where she worked. He didn't know what she did. But she would have been gone for more than an hour already.

"McKinley." Henry's answer had been hesitant, and the look in his eyes- he didn't have his mother's eyes, but no one would miss where that look came from- gave even more.

"McKinley Middle School?" Killian offered an easy shrug. "I pass by it on my way to work every morning. I could drop you off."

Maybe it was because Henry was tempted at having a free day from school, but there was a pause still.

"My mom…"

"And this way you don't have to disturb her at work," he continued before the rejections started to roll in.

There was another second to just think about it- to weigh the pros and cons of the deal. Before…

"Okay, Killian." It was at least firm. And then the smile appeared on his face.

"Okay. Great." He felt his own wheels beginning to turn. Henry always did feel like the key to getting to know Emma a bit more. So maybe…

Henry moved then, his steps quick towards the door.

Killian followed behind, a smile on his face.

"Like I told you, no need to be a stranger."

Henry looked back at him. And this time it was something different. A bit of intrigue in the boy. A bit of mischief.

Just what was the boy thinking?

"Well I'm convinced." He shrugged himself. "I guess you just have to see if you can convince my mom of that, too." And then he was busting through the door, leaving Killian to trail behind.

_See? _Killian shook his head, keeping the chuckle to himself. _He knew there was something about the lad that he really liked!_


	5. Chapter 4

"I don't think that this color scheme is a right fit for this display."

Emma, her eyes falling over the sweaters and thick jeans hanging up from across the room and then to the palette in front of her, agreed at once with her coworker. The orange tone color scheme screamed early summer. Not even late summer with possible hints of autumn. And that just wouldn't do.

"Let's look back at the earth tones," she said in answer.

She heard Belle French, her early morning cohort, sigh from behind her.

"I think we should go rustic anyway," Belle suggested lightly.

Emma liked that idea. Earth tones- bark, mushroom, or maybe even earth. Paired with fern. Or sand.

"I think that's the best way to go about it," Emma agreed.

"I can run back and get the track light?" Belle asked.

Emma turned around towards the mannequin that donned one pair of the denim jeans. Maybe the blue sweater would pair best with those. And they would need the brown dockyard sport boot to go with it.

"Yeah, that'll work fine. Can you hand me the navy sweater first?" She looked back at Belle to see that she was already moving.

"Sounds great to me."

Emma smiled to herself. The boots would be last, but she couldn't stop thinking about the weight of the mannequin. Once the ensemble was picked out, she would have to lift him back up to put on the boots.

The ringing of a cell phone- it would have been Belle's phone- cut through the room. It had stopped her right in her tracks as she searched her pocket for it.

It gave Emma time to wonder about which sweater would look best on the mannequin behind her. A need for accessories was a definite also…

"It's Will, Emma."

She heard the absolute giddiness in her voice. And when she looked up, Emma saw the way she clutched the phone in her hand.

It was a tiny smile that lifted just the corners of her lips. A new love. A budding love. One that had her friend looking like a teenager again.

"I'm going to run to the storage room and find the perfect lighting arrangement, okay?"

Belle didn't wait for a response from her. She was already headed towards the door with the phone answered and up to her ear.

"Will!" The exclamation was followed by a sing-song laughter on her end.

Well…

Even her steps suggested a happiness, quick tiny high-heeled steps hit the tiled floor on her way out of the room.

Emma shook her head, moving to the other side of the room in search of the sweater that had completely slipped Belle's mind. How easy it was to forget everything when…

She felt the instant twisting of her mouth and some unnamed yet familiar stirrings of emotions trying to break through to the surface. It made her steps slow to a crawl, because it had been so noticeable to herself.

She shook her head again, slowly. This time for an entirely different reason. It was difficult to dismiss the sadness that always crept through her at the signs of happiness in other couples. New love- like that of Belle and Will- was just as devastating as a long-term love of a married couple. And it always hit suddenly. Painfully.

It was the easiness at which smiles appeared on their faces. It was the lack of having anything that equated to that in her own life. It was the pain of knowing that the past three years that she had been painfully and utterly alone was only the beginning of the tale.

Three years since she'd ended her last relationship. Or three years since her last relationship had been ended for her.

Walsh.

She'd heard the stories from other men: _no matter what is going on, you refuse to open up._ So she had vowed to herself that she wouldn't be that way with Walsh. She would share a part of herself that others had deemed possibly nonexistent. She had shared _her._

But had it been enough?

Of course not! _She _was never enough. Never.

Emma pulled the sweater into her hands, feeling the material warm the tips of her fingers. She hadn't noticed until then the cold chill.

_Work. Set up new display. Plan the layout. Three mannequins to be dressed. _

"Damn it."

Why didn't work curb the invading thoughts?

It hadn't been enough. Never was it enough.

No matter how much she needed her mind to focus on her work, it didn't push away the thoughts that had rushed her mind.

"Damn it."

Emma slung the sweater over her arm, moving quickly to the other side of the room.

If the blue of this sweater didn't match well with the pants, then there was also a lighter shade that might work better.

But… the stirrings were there. The sadness had crept in and had taken hold of her.

The sudden intake of breath was harsh and ragged. Ignoring it was the hardest thing that she had to do. Had to do? She had not learned how to accomplish burying the feelings as easy as one, two, three. They came and they liked to hold up space in her mind and in her body. The time and scenario never seemed to matter to the feelings.

Why could it be the most random interaction of contact with those who were normal that could set her off on this path? Why was it seeing the simple act of an excited smile of a woman receiving a phone call from the man in her life that sent her spiraling? Why did it have to be the simplest of advertisements of love that had to remind her of her life and lack of importance to anyone outside her realm of family and friends? Why did it have to make her feel so empty and so alone?

Emma's eyes (there was a sudden heaviness that made opening them all the more apparent) slowly ran across the mannequin in front of her. Dressing him, that was the plan.

Sometimes work helped. And sometimes work went on autopilot. As she detached one arm and then the other, it was clear that she was on autopilot.

Left arm went to lay on the chair beside him. The right arm followed. Next came slipping the sweater over his head, fitting it to hold snuggly against the chest and abdomen. Then, grabbing an arm and slipping it through the neck hole and attaching it back in place. The same treatment went for the other arm.

It didn't make the ache go away. It was a physical ache that stemmed from her heart and branched out to other places. Because she could feel sometimes dull, sometimes sharp ache in her chest. The pain was in her ribs, every breath she took making it all the more apparent. She felt it in her limbs, and the weight of each movement only highlighting that fact.

Autopilot left her mind free to roam. Autopilot meant that she couldn't get away from the thoughts.

Apparently her aloofness gave credit to the reason why Jefferson never made time for her. But it was always career first. How in the hell was she expected to give in a relationship that only proved that she wasn't worthy of anything?

But she could only blame herself when it came to Graham. Because Graham had tried. He had tried _really _hard to get her to open up. There had been parts of her that wasn't sure. And when she'd finally opened herself to the possibility… it had been too late.

_Stupid tears!_

Emma blinked her eyes open quickly. Refusing to let the tears fall.

_Goddammit!_

The mannequin would need a belt. A nice thick belt. Preferably black. And the belts were in a bin…

She moved then, walking to the other side of the room.

Walsh.

Walsh had hurt the most… Walsh was the one that she had tried, from day one, to put herself out there for. He was the one- the only one- who had met Henry. If that didn't signify her willingness to get this right for once in her life, then what else would?

It hadn't been enough- no. No! _She _had not been enough. Because it had been so easy for him to go out and cheat on her.

_Shit!_

Emma's hands pressed into her eyes. She had failed to keep the tears at bay. She had failed at letting the pain not reach past physical. It had now made it into her head.

"I didn't take too long, did I?"

She heard Belle's voice, heard the tap of her shoes. She was getting closer.

"No, you didn't." Emma didn't like the way her voice sounded as it left her mouth. It sounded suspicious and unlike herself.

"He looks great!" Belle said. Emma could hear her footsteps taking her towards where the mannequin stood. Taking her away from her.

"I'm just going to find him a belt," Emma murmured, dropping in front of the box.

"I'll pull out number two then," she heard Belle say.

It had been the normalcy of her voice that Emma had notice. It hadn't been something she had to strive for. It had sounded natural. Because it _was_ natural. There wasn't some deep dark pain that was being hidden behind a veil of normalcy. She just was… fine.

There was such a strong need to have that for herself.

Emma Swan. Fine.

Emma Swan. Normal.

Maybe that would happen again. One day.

"Emma?"

"Yeah?" She didn't turn, not just yet. Because there were still traces of tears in her eyes. That wasn't something that she needed to share with anyone. Especially not a coworker.

"Emma, are you okay?" She can hear it in Belle's voice, the concern.

"What?" Emma shook her head quickly.

"Are you okay?" Belle asked again. And she heard the taps of her shoes on the floor. And she knew what that meant.

"Yeah, I'm fine." It was firm. And firm was good. Firm was what she strived to achieve for. Normal.

Emma blinked by the residual tears. She willed them to go away. Because now was not the time to give into the depression that constantly plagued her.

She pulled out the first belt in sight, not giving it any more thought than that.

"Why? Why did you ask me that?"

"I… I just thought that…"

"Do you like this one?" Emma asked as she turned swiftly around, cutting off Belle's stammer. "It'll do, don't you think?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She didn't wait for Belle to get a good look at her. All she hoped was that she paid attention to the matter at hand: the display.

"It works," Belle agreed.

Emma knelt down in front of the nearly completed mannequin. Her hands smoothed out the wrinkles of the sweater and she patted down the jeans.

Work.

She wanted it to consume her.

Because if worked consumed her, then the façade wouldn't seem so fake anymore. At least for a little while.

.

.

When she left from work, it was already a half hour later than usual. A long day called for a need to get home and get comfortable for an early night in. It also called for a quick dinner. And she was almost sure that Henry wouldn't mind the pizza she stopped by to get on her way home.

There was something really nice about being in a residential area again. The last apartment complex had been nice. It had been what she had needed at the time: an enclosed area that allowed her to be cocooned around the bustle of hundreds of people.

But what kind of life had that been for Henry? Sure, it was fine. But she could have offered him more of a home. He had _home _with Neal in Tallahassee. She could give him home here in Boston.

And maybe she wasn't ready for the status of homeowner just yet. Maybe there was a part of her that still held out hope that…

Was this going to be her life forever? Was she ever going to have the possibility to escape her depression and find happiness again? In herself.

It had to be in herself first.

It wasn't about the lack of a man being there at her side. Not really. It was the fact that, apparently, something inside of her said no to ever being a good enough choice. That wasn't about the men and lack of connection. It was about her. Still…

Alone and desolate.

It wasn't what she wanted…

It wasn't….

Sometimes being alone lead to these saddening thoughts. And as she looked up at the apartment house, having finally making it home, there was a sigh that escaped her lips.

Emma shook her head, her eyes blinking over and over again.

This wasn't new. Her life had been stagnant in certain ways for three years now. And even before then there hadn't been much success in her personal life.

She hated when her mind focused on the failures of her life. And she couldn't do that right now. Not when she was already late. Not when her son had been home alone for more than two hours. Not when she had the chance to focus on one bright spot in her life.

Emma's hand was quick to pull down the visor in front of her. She flipped back the cover hiding the mirror and gave herself a quick look-over. It was time to make sure she had the face on that match the activity: home with Henry meant happy smiles and ease. Not the look of worry that took away any and all shine from her eyes.

And she looked… her head tilted just a bit. A bit of lipstick would be a nice touch. A hint of eye shadow. But, overall, the façade was firmly put in place.

It was then that she grabbed the pizza box from beside her in the passenger seat. The bags in the back of the car could wait. Maybe Henry would be so kind as to come out and get her things after dinner.

A genuine smile crossed her lips as she thought about him. Her bright spot in life.

And, getting out of the car with dinner in hand, that is what she would think about as she headed for the apartment. She would think of the bright spots that she had. Sadness couldn't rule her life twenty-four/seven. This was one of those moments that would be ruled by the good things in her life instead.

And that was it. With a firm nod and a positive viewpoint, she headed for home.

.

.

"Henry!"

It was quiet, surprisingly quiet, in the apartment. She didn't even hear as much as the television in the bedroom.

Her steps were slow and cautious as she made her way through the rooms. The living room was as neat as she'd left it that morning. The kitchen as well. She dropped the pizza onto the table absentmindedly.

"Henry!"

Her steps became quicker as she left out of the kitchen. She still didn't hear a peep in the whole damn place besides her own movements. And when she made it down the hallway towards the bedrooms and bathrooms, her worry only persisted.

Emma only glanced through the rooms, but she came up empty

Emma found herself circling around in the hallway, frowning the entire time. Her thirteen year old son wasn't home. He was always home when she got off work. He hadn't called and said he wanted to do anything different.

_Call_.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket. No missed calls. No new text messages. So she would call him.

Why did he have a cell phone other than this reason right here but to stay in contact with her? She would never consider herself to be a helicopter parent, who was in need to know what her kid was doing every second of every day. But she did expect him to stay in contact if plans changed.

Where in the hell was he?

It hadn't got dark out. If he wanted to go hang out with a friend though, he should have something.

The phone only rang twice before she got nervous. It just wasn't like him. Not to call. Not to stay in contact.

He answered after the third ring…

"Mom?"

Did he have the nerve to sound regretful?

"Henry, where are you?"

Emma liked to think that they had a good relationship where, no matter the role of mother and son were traditionally supposed to be, because it had just been the two of them for so long they did have an open relationship. He shared with her, and she…. Well, she shared as much of herself as she could.

"Oh… Mom." He was reluctant. "I didn't realize what time it was."

"Henry, where are you?" she asked him again. Because she hadn't gotten to the part of _do you realize what time it is? _That would come a little later.

"I'm here," he told her quickly. "I mean that I'm in the building."

_In the building…_

"I'm across the hall, at Killian's."

_The damn next door neighbor…_

"Henry, what are you doing over there?"

It was instinctual, each step. Her feet were nearly flying across the floor on her way to the door. She wanted to know his reasoning, but it was even more important to get to her son.

"I'm not doing anything, Mom," Henry answered quietly. "I was just hanging out."

"Henry, I don't know him!" Emma exclaimed, her eyes widening in sheer confusion. How did it ever cross his mind that this would be okay with her?

Her hand closed over the doorknob and yanked the door open. At the same time, she saw the door across the hall opening with a lot less urgency.

His hand went up in surrender, and he had a pleading look on his face. How dare he? How… dare he?

Emma could feel her heart beating out of her chest as she looked at her son. He looked okay. She just didn't know. She couldn't take it at face value.

"What in the hell are you doing, Henry?"

"I didn't tell you, and I'm sorry, Mom," he said, hand still up.

Her fingers closed around his hand, holding on firmly. She still didn't know. Still didn't know how to judge the situation.

"It was something to do until you got home," he whispered. His eyes roamed across her face as he closed his hand around hers as well. "Killian let me come over and just hang out."

So it wasn't a one-time thing? He'd been hanging out in this stranger's apartment?

"Henry, you don't just hang out with grown men who you don't know," she chastised him. That was obvious though, wasn't it? She expected more from her son. Was that just a bad judgment call on her end? How?

"Emma, I'm sorry."

Her head flew up and past Henry to see her neighbor walking up to the door.

"I was only trying to be neighborly."

And did this man have the nerve to look contrite? To look as if he understood her anger and acknowledged it.

"Henry, please move over," she told him softly. She didn't wait for him to do so, but instead pushed herself into the apartment.

It was as if the view she found herself in stopped her dead in her tracks.

The layout, it was the same as her own apartment. It was only the mirror image. The living room straight in front of them, the kitchen to the right, the hall leading off of the living room would have taken her back to the bedroom, possibly bedrooms, and the one bathroom. It wasn't that.

It was what he'd done with the apartment.

It was completely furnished. Why had she expected nothing more than a chair or a couch, and not the complete living room suite? Why had she expected the bachelor across the hall to be a bit on the nomadic side with sparse living arrangements to match?

But it was more than the homey demeanor of the warmth that radiated from throughout. She hadn't expected the artistic flair. And it was very artsy. Paintings hung from the wall, drawings were framed and held a place on the tables.

The dual feeling of awe for the man in front of her and the feeling of disbelief for her own excuse of making a home hit her strongly. She hadn't expected the apartment to be made into a home. She had expected….

He was supposed to be… broken. Like her. This didn't look broken. This looked as if the cocky smile and piercing blue eyes had been justified. That his life was made up of the things he wanted. Yet…

It didn't matter.

"Number one, I don't know you and you don't know me," Emma ticked off, standing right in front of the man. Firm and resolute were her words. Firm and resolute was what she was in that moment.

She didn't like the way he looked past her and the way he wore a small smile on his face. She liked it even less when he crossed his arms over his chest when he looked back at her. And she certainly didn't like the way his eyebrow lifted just a hair or the glint that she saw in those blue eyes.

"Number two, you are a grown man who has no reason to be hanging around a _child _without the permission of his parent," Emma continued.

"Mom."

"Henry!" Her admonishment to her son was quick. She was _his _parent!

"Henry?"

It was her neighbor's calming voice as he spoke to her son that threw her off. When she would have turned and scolded her _teenage _son in front of this stranger, his voice had stopped her.

"Your mom's right," he continued.

There was a truth that rung from his words. But Emma still didn't like the way his eyes fell over her. It was as if he was cataloguing bits and pieces of her. He was looking at her too closely.

It was uncomfortable. It made her want to shut her eyes as if to shut him out. She needed her door. She needed to put those two doors between them.

"Henry, go home," she said, turning around to look at him.

"Mom, it's not a big deal," he tried again with persistence. His eyes were wide, close to pleading as he watched her.

"We'll talk about it at home, Henry." It was firm because that's what she needed to be in the moment. "Go across the hall _now _and get ready for dinner. _Now, _Henry."

He bit down on his lip and his eyebrows closed together. But he was looking past her. He was looking at _him._

"Killian, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make her angry with you."

"We'll straighten it out, Henry," she heard him assure her son. "Go ahead and get home."

It was with a scrape of teeth over lip and a hesitant eye for the both of them that Henry finally moved. He backed away towards the door slowly. She saw how his mouth opened to say something, but he hesitated. And instead of trying again, he was quick to turn around and escape through the door.

The brush of skin to the palm of her hand had to be imaginary. But she wasn't sure because the tingle that definitely ran through her could almost be called a tremble…

She was as quick as Henry had been to turn around.

They had already been close, but it seemed as if he was even closer now.

"Who is hell do you think you are?" she whispered hoarsely, staring up at the calm and collected face.

She'd never been this close to him. And never for this long.

Emma still didn't like the way he looked at her. She didn't like that he took his time in measuring every bit of her.

He shook his head slowly, those eyebrows going up sharply.

"I'm just your neighbor," he told her softly.

"And that gives you the right to invite my son into your apartment without my knowing about it?" If she sounded incredulous about his weak answer, it was only because she was.

As if he could be any closer, he had the nerve to take a step towards her.

Emma wouldn't back down. She wasn't afraid of him. But there had been a heat being created in that small space between them. And…

It annoyed her to no end.

"I'm only getting to know the boy." It was a smooth whisper with words so matter-of-fact. He moved even closer then, his face inching closer to hers. "As much as I like it, I would love to get to know the mom as well." This time the touch wasn't so imaginary. This time, his fingers reached for just the tips of hers.

The nerve!

It was the last straw is for Emma. She yanked her hand back at the same time she stepped away from him.

"I'm not the enemy here, _Emma._"

Did he think he had a right? Because he said her name as if he had a right. As if he knew something about her. And he didn't know anything about her.

She felt the walls. She felt them shooting up around her. She felt the need to close herself off from this person who had tried too hard to define her.

She stepped back- back away from him.

"Are you trying to use my son to get to me?" Because that's what it sounded like. And it made her feel just a little bit sick. This man. God!

"All I've ever done was try to be a positive influence on your son," he answered. "He's home alone for a couple hours a day. I'm here, usually working and such. Sometimes my brother and sister-in-law are around. We've only been nice to the lad. That's all."

He spoken each word as if they were as clear as day. As if each word made sense, and she needed to accept the fact that he'd been the good guy in the situation.

"Just do me the favor of staying away from my son, okay?"

His eyes squinted down at her feet, watching the steps as they slowly separated them from each other.

"I can respect the fact that you don't know me well," he said cautiously.

Maybe he realized that his words hadn't had the effect he had meant for them to have. It sounded so careful that it almost made Emma laugh. She liked him even less now than she had before.

"I'm offering you the chance to change that." Her neighbor took a huge step, closing the distance between them once again. "Make a friend, Emma. Your son has. Stop being so closed off."

His words made her stop dead in her tracks. What had Henry told him? What had he gotten her son to say about himself and about her? Why had he used those words? What made him define her as being "closed off?"

It was insecurity after insecurity that claimed her mind.

She didn't like that he was forming ideas about who she was. She hated the thought that Henry may have been helping him form those thoughts.

"I've only been an outlet to the boy in way of giving him something to do while you were away Killian whispered. "Do you really want me to close my door to Henry?"

"Just stay out of my way, _please."_

She didn't give him a chance to respond. She turned on her heel right then, her eyes growing wide again, and raced for the door.

"Emma Swan!"

Her name was called out, and she may have read frustration in that voice.

Her heart was pounding. How had she not notice that before?

She slammed the door behind her, quickening her feet and her hands to reach the other side of the hall and her door.

He wouldn't have followed her… At least she didn't think so.

Her head turned back to look at that door. No, he wouldn't follow…

She willed steady hands to open her own door, and she pushed her way through, slamming it behind her.

What had Henry done? What had made him go over there and become friends with a total stranger? What had he shared about her to a man who looked at her as if he caught glimpses of something beyond that surface?

"Mom?"

Emma moved away from the door, her eyes searching out Henry because of his question.

"I can't believe you, Henry." She shook her head over and over, truly perplexed. "What would ever make you go into some strange man's apartment? And, apparently, over and over again? Don't you know better than that? I know you know better than that."

"Mom, Killian's a good guy." He was watching her closely.

He was calm, and it didn't surprise Emma. He thought he was right. And just as she had known, he did know better than to put himself in such a bad predicament. He'd done it because he believe it. He had believed that the man across the hall was someone to be trusted.

"If you thought that it was okay, then why didn't you tell me about it, Henry?" she asked him, moving over to reach for him.

"I didn't think you were ready."

It was the way he looked up at her. It was the way he had made a judgment call about what she could handle.

"You made it seem like you didn't like Killian…"

Emma contained the eye roll that had wanted to come at her son's words.

"He is a good guy, Mom," he continued. "He works for the Boston Globe as a staff writer. He also writes for an online paper, too. It's political stuff… And he's an artist, Mom!" His eyes lit up at that one. "Did you see any of the drawings? They are his! He's awesome! So he works at the newspaper _and _he draws! Mom, he _knows _things that I'm interested in. He'd help me with my photography. He wants to."

She hadn't seen Henry light up like that in a long time. Not over something like this. But…

Emma didn't know how to trust it.

"Henry…" Her head shook again, and she felt the way she was being torn. "I… don't know."

"You could always get to know him, too, Mom," he reminded her. "He's a nice guy. So is his brother and his sister-in-law."

There was a pause… because she still didn't know.

Emma grabbed his hand and pulled him away towards the kitchen.

"He likes you."

Henry's words had almost made her falter…

"Did he ask you about me? Because if he asked you about me, doesn't that tell you something, Henry?"

And he nodded. "That he likes you." He smiled, but it was dismissed just as quickly. "We haven't talked about you much, Mom, but I already knew that he liked you."

It didn't make her feel any better. It made her feel a bit off-balanced.

"I don't like him, Henry."

He looked up at her then, his face clear of anything.

"I think you will. If you let yourself."

Emma let him go, her steps becoming smaller and letting him take the lead into the kitchen.

What had her life become? What was this?

Because he had touched her… He had looked at her if there was something to be seen. He had looked at her and not been automatically cut off by the blind wall she'd had up.

And she still didn't like it.

Emma rolled her eyes then, the feeling of depletion taking over her.

This wasn't over just yet. And wasn't that just perfect?

.

.

She had lingering feelings about leaving him home again. She hadn't come up with a definite answer on the friendship just yet. And even though Emma had explained to Henry last night that she needed more time to make up her mind about it, she wasn't sure if he saw that as a greenlight. As if he would have no issue in going back over there, today even, when she was still at work.

Walking to the door, she'd almost stepped on the sheet of paper that was in front of it. A note? That had been pushed under the door.

And she knew instantly.

Emma knelt down slowly, hesitant to even have to deal with this so early in the morning.

Just get it over with…

_ Emma,_

_ We've seemed to have gotten off on the wrong foot. I want to correct that._

_ Henry and I have become friends over this past month. I would love it if_

_ you'd like to try to be at least civil as well. So here is my contact info. You_

_ choose which way you'd like to figure this out._

_ Killian Jones._

Emma pulled the door opened, the letter crumpling in her hands. He'd left her with a phone number and an email address. It was supposed to be her choice how she wanted to make this neighbor thing work out.

She only threw a cursory glance at the door across the hall as she passed by.

She didn't know if she could possibly be any more annoyed than she was right then…


	6. Chapter 5

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Killian dropped his foot from the porch railing, letting his chair fall back to the floor. His ears pricked at the sound of the door closing.

Where did she have to go that was going to lead her to cross his path on this beautiful Saturday afternoon?

"It's Emma," he muttered, glancing over at Liam. "She's getting ready to come this way."

"And how do you know that it's Emma and not the lad instead?" he asked, sounding quite curious at his brother's conjecture.

"Henry left out earlier," Killian said with a shrug. "I didn't hear or see him come back."

There was only a tiny smile on Liam's face. One that Killian knew instantly was the milder version of what he was really feeling.

"You're an idiot, little brother." His words were full of laughter, but honest. "This is all your fault."

Killian knew where he was going. He'd heard the words too many times in the past couple of weeks. And hearing it again?

"You should have cleared it with Emma before you took it upon yourself to become friends with her son. You could have gotten yourself in a lot more trouble other that an even more pissed off neighbor."

"Liam?" There was a part of him that itched to stand up. She would be heading out of the door any second.

"What?"

Liam's amused face only made Killian amused.

"Shut up."

He was sure that the smile would have turned into a huge grin at that. But he couldn't pay Liam any more attention.

He sat straight up in his seat as he listened to the door open onto the porch. Her reaction to him was always the same, no matter what his own approach was to her. So he sat there, trying to decide if he wanted to continue to look straight ahead or if he wanted to brave the icy chill of her gaze.

Beautiful green eyes that would be clouded in loathing? Well, that was an easy enough decision.

Her posture was rigid. But there wasn't a need for stiffness in her limbs as she quietly crossed the porch. Both hands were flexed and just as rigid as the rest of her

"Good afternoon, Ms. Emma Swan."

Killian saw the tightening of her shoulders as she took the first step off of the porch. She didn't turn, so he hadn't had the pleasure of seeing those eyes. But he could imagine the way she had probably rolled them, because the annoyance from behind was just as clear.

From behind…

She had a beautiful face. She had a gorgeous figure that he liked to admire whenever she looked at him. But this was a usual viewpoint, from behind. And he liked it as well.

Emma didn't work weekends, so her business attire in place of casual right now was a bit interesting. There was just a hint of leg peeking out from underneath the black pencil skirt. Hm,,, the cream-colored side-tab coat helped cut quite the figure from behind, too.

Emma threw a look that could only be considered as contempt back their way. And, he was certain, the quiet hello that she bit out was only at the aid of being socially correct.

She didn't even give him a chance. She gave him nothing at all. And it surprised him to know end.

"And when I say strike one…"

Killian turned to look at Liam then, finding his eyes following Emma on her way down the porch.

"I mean _major _strike one." Liam looked back at him, a smile on his face.

Killian pulled in his bottom lip, sucking on it hard as he looked back at her.

She'd given a toss of her head, the blonde waves moving across her neck and over her back. But those steps were still as stilted as ever.

It wasn't just because of him. He may have had his moments. He would be the first one to agree with the fact that he'd messed up in a major way in handling the situation of Emma Swan. But her need to put herself in a bubble wasn't only because he was more of an unknown versus a known. No, it went beyond him. And that… wasn't fair.

Those eyes deserved to have a glint of positive mischief in them. Those pink lips deserved to be bruised and puckered by a well and thorough kiss. Those hips that were being hugged by the material of that coat deserved to be hugged by big and capable male hands. Preferably his capable hands. Pulled snuggly against his body.

"Do you think that you should put this one out of your mind, Killian?"

Liam's question put a frown on his face. Because looking at her now, watching as she slipped herself behind the seat of the oddly complementary yellow Bug, there was no way that he was ready to give up on this one. Not when he'd made no headway in the least bit.

Was he dense? How in the hell had he been so naïve to the real world to have done what he did? From day one he had saw the way she had guarded herself. So, of course, she reacted to his befriending Henry by going head to head with him.

Okay. Granted. Strike one.

It was a real shame. Although they still spoke, because Emma hadn't come up with a definitive affirmative on him hanging out while she was away, Henry felt the need to toe the line. And Killian, for the most part, was on board with that himself. But he did like the boy. He was his mother's son, with a bright mind and a good eye. His interest in photography had been a surprising one. And one that should have been nurtured.

"I'm not ready to put this one out of my mind," he muttered to his brother. He threw a hand haphazardly out in her direction. "Look at her, Liam. The game doesn't end at strike one, brother. I'm not out of it just yet."

"When did you become a glutton for punishment?" Liam asked softly.

Killian looked back at him and he saw the brightness of his eyes.

"I've made some… missteps," Killian admitted slowly. "Talking to Henry is definitely a misstep that I seem to be paying for. But I was getting the icy look before."

"And what does that tell you, Killian?" It was lax, just as Liam's position in the chair became as he leaned back.

"It tells me that…" His smile was sudden as he thought about possibly getting through that icy wall. "I have to work just a bit harder. Listen. Emma had Henry. There's something underneath there. It's just something she's chosen to keep hidden."

The sound of the engine trying and failing to turn over once and then twice drew his attention down towards the driveway.

"Like I said: glutton."

"I like to think of it as having a strong will and persistence."

It was the pensive look on Liam's face that made Killian wonder what he was thinking. It was the pursed lips as he peered out in front of him. But then again, Killian did know his brother. And it wasn't so difficult to read the mind of the older man.

But…

"She's still sitting out there." Liam gave a nod in the direction of Emma.

And she was. The car hadn't moved. The engine hadn't even turned over.

"Do you think…"

Before the question was even asked, he watched as Emma Swan's door opened again and she popped out. The door stayed slung open, and it was with a determined glare in her eye that she walked the length of car until she hit the front.

"I think she may need help." He was slow to stand up from his seat, his eyes taking in the woman as she lifted the hood of the car. "Knight in Shining Armor, I'd say."

"Or something like it."

Or maybe not… Because this Emma Swan pushed the mop of falling curls back over her shoulder and peered straight into the contents that were found under the hood. If she knew anything about cars, it wouldn't have surprised him. The dirtiness of the job of just looking under the hood hadn't even phased her.

"Come on."

He didn't wait on Liam, but he heard his footsteps fall on the steps behind him.

"As long as you don't make a complete fool of yourself, Killian. She doesn't look too inclined on you butting in on her life."

Killian only threw a quick glance back his way.

"You have another suggestion on how to change that?"

Liam only shared a look of doubt with him. And Killian didn't understand what it was about her that made him so cautious. Or have such little faith in his brother's abilities, or lack thereof.

He felt the excitement building up inside of him. He imagined the same look of disdain to be on her face as any other time she set eyes on him. And he was going to have to change that. One way or another.

Killian looked back at Liam just once more, seeing that he had closed the gap between them. And he still wore the look of caution that had been there before.

It was with a smile of his own that he turned back towards Emma. He had sensed the stiffening of her shoulders again. No doubt she had heard them come up behind her. No doubt that she was already squaring herself up to dismiss him with ease.

"Need a hand, love?" Because he thought that maybe demure was the way to go. Something soft. Something easy.

She took a moment, but he heard the sharp intake of breath. It wasn't until she turned around that he was privy to her eyes narrowing on him.

"Seriously?"

Of course that was her response. Of course she looked at him as if he was the one thing that was the basis of her total annoyance.

"We noticed that you were having a problem, and all we came over to do was offer you a spot of help. That is… if you'd like."

She made getting to know her a challenge. But, as he saw the hardening of her _every _part of her that was visible, it wasn't enough to deter him. It was in those eyes. They may have been guarded, but by God, he could see behind those eyes.

Killian felt the smile falter. It wasn't because of the stern appearance she was giving. It was because there was a strong and palpable need to get past it. There was a need to see her let down some of that toughness.

She was more than that. Wasn't she more than that.

It was going to take dedication and focus. It was going to take time.

Emma looked passed him, her gaze finding a spot behind him.

"I haven't had the chance to make any introductions," Killian said, remembering that fact himself. "This is my brother-"

"Henry has told me about you," Emma cut in. An eyebrow raised just for his brother. "Liam? Right?"

"That's right."

Killian moved then, taking note of what was all under the hood of the small car.

"He also told me that you and your wife are expecting," Emma continued. "Congratulations."

It was her voice. Odd. Killian peeked back her way. And the smile he saw on her face was small but quite genuine.

For Liam of all people? That was an intriguing bit of discovery.

"Thank you. Yes, we're in the later stages of it all."

She didn't do easy. So why now? Why did she offer his brother a smile that she had not been able to offer him?

But it faltered. The smile fell from her face and there was a twitchy movement that brought her hands together. All the more intriguing.

"We can help you," Killian told her again, turning the focus back to the matter at hand. "If you'd like."

Would she ever look at him without the disdain in her eyes? Would it ever been a look of ease in her eyes for him?

Killian couldn't explain the pull he had for her past the fact that she was a gorgeous woman and her guard gave clear indication of wanting to be left alone. But he couldn't have been the only person in the world who could see that there was more.

"It won't start." It was mumbled under duress, he was sure.

But it was a start…

He felt Liam move up from behind him before he, too, peered at the car.

"I can give it a look."

"Fine." Her consent was nothing than a grunt of consent.

Emma gave them both a quick look before moving back to the other side of the car.

"It was fine earlier. I don't think it's anything major. It better not be anything major."

Killian watched as Liam seemed to peer even closer, his eyes running across each compartment.

If he had to be honest, then he would admit that Liam was the stronger of the two in the repair work of vehicles. Killian would be able to spot certain small issues, but Liam probably would get to them quicker. And since his brother seemed good with tinkering about…

"It may just be a loose spark plug."

"There's a loose spark plug?" Emma was moving back then.

The frown on her face as she pushed her way between the two of them wasn't what caught his attention.

She'd never touched him before, but suddenly her firm hand was pressed against his arm.

He'd barely touched her hand before. That time she had stormed into his apartment and went all mother hen on him. He had listened to her, had tried to reason with her, and had not been successful. He couldn't stop himself from admiring the fire in her or the strong show of love for her son, but it didn't stop him from admiring up close all her attributes that he was getting up close with.

And, again, he was invaded with just a tiny catch of her scent. Sweet.

"Killian?"

He hadn't had the chance to muse any further…

"Yeah?" And he ignored the twinkle in Liam's eyes as he waited.

"Get behind the wheel and try to start it up again. After I check this. I'll tell you when I'm ready for you."

Killian was slow to move, catching Emma's eye. The fact that she didn't look right away was something to marvel at. Who cares if it was a wary glance. It didn't even matter that she looked at him as if she was thinking how positively useless he was in the whole situation.

A loose spark plug? He could have found the simple problem of a loose plug. And yet she looked at him as if he would have been just as content from his seat on the porch.

Still, he offered her one of his more dashing smiles and a quick wink of his eye.

"Is this going to take much longer?" Emma asked, turning swiftly away from him. The question was aimed at Liam, as her arms crossed over her chest.

"If it's just the plug, then no it won't."

Killian swung open the door of the Bug and pressed himself down in the seat.

It would be easy to take offense to her show of disinterest. But he wasn't.

Was it just him? She hadn't been so cold and distant to Liam. Why was that? Was it a reflection more on himself or on her? It could have been that she had formed an awful first impression that first day. How, he really didn't understand. But it was probable. But if it was her… If it was just the way Emma was, then it only proved of the many layers that were certainly present in the woman.

"Emma?"

He wanted to know more about her. That wasn't a new revelation. But the time had arisen. If only she would be willing to entertain his notion.

"Emma?" Killian said her name again after seeing the all too familiar hitch of her shoulder. "Emma Swan?"

He watched as her tilted just so. With her not facing him, her face was a matter of his imagination.

"Yes?" It was a tight one syllable word. But he could work with that.

Killian braced his hand on the steering wheel. "Is this going to be us forever?"

"And what does _that _supposed to mean?" Perturbed. Annoyed. Beautiful. Lovely.

"Listen…"

She fidgeted about again before she finally turned back towards him.

Killian wondered if she knew how beautiful she was. Because she was… a gorgeous woman who he needed to know more about.

"I wanted to apologize to you again," he told her. And he hoped that it had come off sincere. It was supposed to be sincere. "I know that you don't know me well at all, but we are neighbors. I know that you knew me even less at the time, but… I… I was only trying to be a good neighbor when I invited Henry over."

"So you want to go through _that _again?" Emma's scowl was one of condemnation, showcased by the flutter of her lashes.

"Well, you haven't given me the chance to make things right," he pointed out, thinking of the fact that he'd left the door open for her to do so.

"And I already told you." Her eyes were steely. Her words were firm. And they were meant to push him away.

Killian didn't get pushed away so easily.

"Ok, Killian."

At Liam's affirmation, he only gave a quick glance at her before he reached for the key that was hanging from the ignition.

This time the engine roared to life, signaling a job well done by Liam at the other end of the car.

"Oh my God."

Liam slammed the hood of the car, shutting it securely. Killian saw the lift of his lips, a small smile place there, from through the windshield. He moved then, leaving the engine running and stepping out of the car.

The distance that Emma had put between herself and the car was surely due to the fact of the men who were still there. Their purpose had been filled, and she was ready to put space between them again.

"Thank you."

Was that another elusive yet genuine smile on her face? And all for his brother.

"It was no problem at all."

Did she do it on purpose or was he purely just scum? Because what had Liam done, other than hook up a couple of loose plugs, that had deemed him worthy of her smile and her congeniality over him?

When she moved, her steps were cautious. She would have to walk past him to get to her car. And he wondered if that was truly an issue…

Killian gave her her space, giving her room to walk passed him.

It was only because Emma looked at him. He would have let her go if she hadn't looked at him.

"You're an intriguing woman, Ms. Swan." It was meant for only her ears, and only when she was close enough."

It made her stop in her tracks. It made her turn on him, giving him a once-over.

"What about me is intriguing?"

Maybe she'd heard the words before. Maybe she was use to some disingenuous people in her life.

Killian had her attention. For a brief moment, it wasn't because of something hostile. This time it was due to a need to read him, he was sure of that. To pick up any trace of what lie might fall from his mouth.

"Besides the fact that you brushed me off for no possible good reason?"

That earned him a roll of her eye. And perhaps the chance of losing her in that moment.

"What about Henry?"

It wasn't his ace in the hole. It might have even been a sore spot for her, but he only had what he had.

"What _about _Henry?"

It happens quickly. The way Emma is ready to shoot him down. The way she closes herself off completely to reasoning.

"Well if you got to know me some, then maybe you wouldn't be so against the fact that I let your son check out some drawings that he's interested in. He has an artistic eye."

"_My_ son is interested in photography." Emphasis on _her _son. "_Not _photojournalism. So as far as I am concerned, you can't help him." She made her move for the car again, brushing by him without concern, but with a hell of a lot of barriers up.

Killian heard the short laugh from his brother, and he frowned at him. With a shake of his head, he listened to Emma as she closed the car door behind her.

"Thank you."

Killian glanced back over his shoulder that time.

"For the assistance," she tells them. But it is hollow. It is not genuine. And maybe that was his fault.

Killian smiled. "What are neighbors for?"

There was no answer for that question…

At least she didn't tear out of the driveway. Emma backed out of the driveway. He'd consider it as being civil.

It doesn't leave him not perturbed, but actually even more intrigued, watching the car slip out onto the street.

As if he could no longer hold it in, Liam burst out in laughter. And maybe _that _finally did leave Killian feeling somewhat agitated.

"What is so funny?"

His eyes cut back to his brother, and he saw the way he grabbed at his stomach.

"I think that we can consider that as strike two, aye, little brother?"

And Liam had the nerve to laugh even harder that time. A good and hearty laugh at Killian's strikeout with Emma.

"Strike two," he muttered, although not ready to concede to that decision fully. But there was no doubt…

He's an idiot for not having cleared things with Emma before striking up a friendship with her son, He undoubtedly screwed everything up now. Or, at the least, made things a hell of a lot harder to break through.

.

.

It had been a while. Possibly too long of a while. And maybe Jessica had thought the same thing.

Killian hadn't made it a custom to let dates end on his end of things. It was always so much easier if dates lead to _her _place rather than his. It didn't matter who the _her _was in question. It just made the _how _of slipping away a lot simpler.

But his apartment had been closer…

And it had been a while…

Killian hadn't liked the feeling of _something _in the pit of his stomach when he saw Emma's car parked in the driveway. And it shouldn't have mattered. Such an odd thought, as well as an odd feeling, to have.

He hadn't made much headway with her. His conversations with her had been limited at best. And as far as he could tell, she had no interest in him whatsoever.

So what did it matter that he had the beautiful brunette's hand wrapped around his arm as they made their way up to the house? It didn't matter.

The movie had been nice and even cozy. Dinner had been even better. It had all led to the possibility of a much needed nightcap. So…

Killian offered Jessica a smile, along with a tempting and appreciative glace from head to toe.

She was quick to smile back. She was quick to hug her body even closer to his.

"I missed you. Killian." The whisper was soft and sultry. Even more important, it was full of promise. Promise of a night that had started off so well and promised to end that way as well.

"I missed you, too, love." Missed the look of want in a woman's eyes. Missed the warmth of a body next to his. Missed the ease of what was to come.

He pulled the door open for her, letting her pass through the hallway first. And…

For a moment, just a short and quick moment, the stark white glare from the door across from his own caught his attention.

She was in there. Emma and Henry both.

Those damn eyes. That damn wall. If she only gave him the chance, then he would have tried to get through to her. He would have succeeded.

His gaze narrowed on that door. His mind travelling and settling on the image of her lying in bed. Alone. All alone. And for far too long.

"Killian?"

Not the time. Not now. Not when there was someone so ready and so willing.

Killian smiled at her again, small this time. Picking out the apartment key off of the key ring, he moved to open the door.

"Come on in, love, and make yourself comfortable."

.

.

The knock on the door was a bit surprising. He would have been out the door and off to work himself within the next few minutes. Which made a visitor unwarranted.

Killian pulled the flash drive that was jutting out of the laptop and threw it into his bag beside him. It was one of the last things that he had needed to make sure to get done before he would walk out the door.

With tote in hand, he crossed the length of the room and only stopped to scoop the coat from off of the couch. He did a quick mental check list of the daily essentials, making sure he had everything with him.

Mondays were probably the hardest day of the week just to get started. Especially after one of the nicer weekends. And this past weekend had not been disappointing…

Jessica?

No, she wasn't the one. Killian was as sure of that as he was sure of anything. But it didn't mean that he didn't have fun with her. Thinking of the way he'd been awakened just that other morning… He had a lot of fun with Jessica.

"Who is it?" Even as he asked, his hand was on the lock, turning it.

"Henry."

_Henry._ If he had expected anyone, it wouldn't have been the lad.

Killian pulled the door open to see him standing there. He should have been off to school already. And he was dressed for the part, with backpack slung from his shoulder.

"Henry."

He looked sheepish, as if the decision to knock on his door had been a toss-up.

Emma's reluctance to even voice her opinion on whether or not it was okay for Henry to as much as talk to him had put a space between them. His door would always be open to him. It was just easier to keep the conversation at a minimum. At least until Emma came around. And lack of a better example to prove otherwise, it seemed like caution was a norm for the lady.

"Good morning, Killian."

"Did you need to come in or anything, Henry? Because I was on my way to work."

"No, I don't need to come in." He stepped back then, giving Killian more space to move. "I was wondering, though, if… you could give me a ride to school. Since it's on your way."

It made Killian smile. He looked back into the apartment, making one more quick sweep of the room. He had everything that he needed. He was sure of that. So, grabbing the knob, he stepped out of the apartment and closed the door behind him.

"That's not a problem at all," he assured him.

"Really?" Henry smiled. "Thanks, Killian. I know that my mom hasn't said anything to you about being okay with us being friends…"

"Did she say anything to you?" Killian was quick to take his key and lock the door behind him. He wanted to be facing Henry when he answered. He wanted to know if he would be able to give any insight on his mom that he himself wasn't privy to.

"Not much," Henry answered truthfully.

It wasn't the answer that he wanted. In any case, it was one that he should have expected.

Killian watched as Henry moved towards the door, following behind him. He was a good kid. Always respect. But it was more than that.

In that time that they had spent together, Henry had proved to be a bright kid. An intuitive kid. One with a good eye and one with good attention to detail. It showed in the work that he liked to do. His interest in photography was unexpected, but proved to be an extension to everything that was him.

Children. Hopefully somewhere down the line it would happen for him as well. Killian had never been in a rush though. Children meant first finding the one, as he liked to joke with Liam. But until that time, and who in the hell knew when that time would be, he would have to live vicariously through his brother, his sister-in-law, and the bump who would be named later.

But it was the strong bond that was clear to see that Henry had with Emma that made Killian yearn just a bit. It had always been him and Liam. For it to be such an elite group, family had met everything to him. Having a chance to extend that family wasn't in the cards. At least not yet. But, one day it wouldn't be the random girl in his bed. One day…

Why was he even thinking that far ahead? His head was filled with thoughts of Emma Swan. But it was her mystique that drove his need, right? Nothing more. Not the thought of closing in on _the one._ Yes, her mystique.

"I apologized to her, Henry," Killian murmured softly, walking along with the boy at his side.

Henry shrugged, his eyes on the ground in front of him. "I know."

Killian smiled again, his thoughts turning to something lighter. "You told me she was always so touchy. I haven't been able to see that side yet."

Henry stopped in his tracks so that he could look up at him.

"She's not. She's just… she's cautious. You know?"

It was as if Henry wanted to convey the message that there was something deeper there. And Killian had already came to that conclusion. He had already made up his mind that there was an internal struggle way down deep inside of her.

"She has my number," he told him softly.

Henry looked at him again. "Yeah?"

Killian didn't know what to take from that. He didn't know what Henry knew about her past interactions with people. He didn't know if her having a way to reach out to him meant anything to Emma or nothing at all.

"She hasn't used it."

Henry only shrugged at that.

"Henry?" It was soft. Cautious. Because he didn't know why he wanted to share. He didn't know how appropriate it was. With her son. Her young son…

"Yeah?"

He got the impression that he approved. Maybe he was reading the boy wrong. But he found himself to be a good judge of character.

"I need you to give me her phone number." Killian's smile was quick, the idea popping into his head and taking firm root there. "I want to work things out with her. Waiting for her to take the next step may lead to _another _month. So…"

He looked hesitant, but there was more to it than just doubt.

"I like your mom." Killian hadn't meant to be that honest. He hadn't known how well that would go over.

Henry smile was small, hidden partially by his glance over at the car.

"I think that I'd like her even more if she gave me the chance to get to know her better."

Henry nodded. "Okay, Killian."

He didn't know why his heartrate had picked up speed, but it had.

Killian nodded himself, but he looked curiously at the boy beside him.

"Okay then."


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks everyone for reading this little story. I know I just updated, but this chapter was so closely related to the last chapter that I was forced into writing today! **

**There will also be another small note at the end of this chapter!**

**.**

**.**

**Wednesday 1:25p.m**

_I try and I try, but I honestly don't think I'm getting anywhere with you._

_**Who is this?**_

_I'm wounded! Does that mean you didn't even save my number? Make me a promise first._

_Wow! Nothing?_

_You're a challenge, Emma Swan. It's a good thing for me that I like challenges._

_**How did you get my number?**_

_I've been waiting patiently for you to use mine for a while now. All to no avail._

_**I'm going to take a wild guess that Henry gave you my phone number. I'm going to try really hard to not be angry about that. What do you want?**_

_To move on from whatever this hostility is between us._

_I'm a good guy, Emma. You can trust me. _

_Henry can trust me._

**2:52p.m.**

_**I'm over it.  
><strong>_

_**.**_

Ahh! Just when he had just about given up all hope, there dawns a new ray of light!

Killian rubbed a hand over his cheek slowly, his thoughts running far and wide as he slipped the phone into his pocket.

She'd taken her time. Had she been doing a silent debate with herself of how much she could trust his words? For some reason, it was the wide-eyed, ready-to-run Emma Swan that he had imagined. The one who had turned on heel and escaped from his apartment to never return.

She'd actually texted him back…

That had been a pleasant surprise unto itself. A surprise that he would silently celebrate.

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday 1:29p.m.<strong>

_There's a new contest that the Globe is sponsoring for students grade 8-12. A photographer forum that has different subject areas. Might Henry be interested?_

_**It's a hobby. And a new one at that. I don't know if he'd enjoy being in a contest.**_

_I can send you a link with all the information. _

_Or I can tell him about it when he gets back to the apartment, if you don't mind._

_**You can send the link. I'll see what he thinks.**_

Emma threw the phone down on top of the fabrics that had made a nice pile of the floor.

Her day was far from over, and she had a lot of work to do.

Her arms encircled the petite female mannequin. Dressed in her warm creamy brown sweater, it was the khaki trench coat and matching scarf that would be the star of her outfit.

Moving across the room, she paused for just a moment. One brief second, to let her eyes travel…

This was the second day in a row that he had texted her. She felt it in the palms of her hands, this nervousness. It was instinctual, for her at least, to want to question both interactions. To question her own part in it.

Pulling the mannequin back to a standing position, she brought her hand up to her face to have a look. Damp, of course. She wiped one hand and then the other down the front of her pants.

_Stupid overreaction to the simple act of interaction with a man…_

Emma shook her head, stopping herself from thinking about… anything other than work. There was a whole display that was in shambles that had to get put up before she would even leave today.

A long day.

A lot to get done.

* * *

><p><strong>Friday 1:56p.m.<strong>

_I've been meaning to ask you something._

_**What?**_

_I know that you know what I do for a living, but you never shared that bit of information about yourself._

_**Just what exactly HAVE I shared?**_

_It's always a question with a question with you._

_**Is that a complaint?**_

_Funny! I'm curious. _

_Care to share?_

_**I'm a visual merchandiser.**_

_**What did you do? Google it?**_

_It's better than Googling you, don't you think?_

_You set up displays and such? What store do you work for?_

_**Display is one part of it. And definitely not all of it.**_

_You're not going to tell me which store you work at, are you?_

_Ah! I'm guessing you have a bit of an artistic flair yourself! I like it._

_._

**3:17p.m.**

_I don't want to ruin this delicate balance that we have going on, but since the weekend is coming up I thought that I'd share._

_I have a story that's taking me out of the city this weekend. When you don't see me around, it's not because I'm trying to keep this delicate thing we have going balanced._

_**It would have been my absolute first thought.**_

_That's what I figured. I wanted you to know that I wasn't ignoring you in person. _

_._

**3:47p.m.**

_**Politics, right?**_

_**.**_

**4:03p.m.**

_Yeah, that's me. There's a political roadshow that's going on, for lack of a better term._

_Henry's home._

_**I know that.**_

_What I should have said is that I saw him._

_I talked to him. He said that he liked the idea about the contest. That he was interested in the "natural world" category._

_**Is that supposed to be my opportunity to say thank you?**_

_What is ever wrong with showing a spot of gratitude?_

_**Thank you.**_

_Why do I get the feeling that it was only so quick and easy because we aren't face to face?_

_**You ask a lot of questions.**_

_All the better to get to know you, Ms. Emma Swan._

"We have a problem, Emma."

Belle's sweep into the room was accompanied by a shake of her head and a sigh.

Emma dropped the phone in her pocket

She had said that they'd had a problem. But Emma counted that among her other problem.

Why was her heart beating so fast at the mere distraction of Belle entering the room? Why had it caught her so off guard when she had been doing this back and forth thing with the man from across the hall?

It was better to keep men out, in any form possible. He'd already showed interest in her in a way that she was comfortable with. And now here she was, holding these conversations with him.

It didn't matter that it had seemed easy. More than seemed. It had been easy. Just to talk. Just the back and forth.

It wasn't good.

"Creative differences between the designer and management," Belle informed her. "And the designer is going to win out."

"Which means?" Emma asked. But she already knew exactly what it meant. She felt the weight of a major re-haul build up on her shoulders. It was already after four o'clock…

"It means that we'll have to start basically all the way over," Belle confirmed. Her chin fell to her chest as her eyes fluttered closed. "We can either pull an all-nighter, just to get the ball rolling, or we can come in early tomorrow morning, a Saturday morning, and start then. Emma?" She looked back at her then, a hopeful look on her face.

"Yeah?"

"I vote for an early morning start if that's okay with you," she told her softly. "If we can, then I promise to go over designs on my own time later this evening. I… had plans that I wanted to keep. I'm willing to come in on a Saturday morning for a few hours in exchange that my evening isn't ruined. So… what do you say?"

The hope in her eyes was too hard to miss. But it was the fact that she had plans that Emma had gotten stuck on. She couldn't help but wonder what her plans were. What did Belle want to do that was more important than working out the setbacks of the project?

Emma mentally shook her head. There were thoughts that were trying invade her mind. Thoughts that weren't positive. Thoughts that were going to drag her down. And if anything was going to drag her down, it was going to be thoughts of how half a day's work had been for nothing because they were going to have to start over. But it was a part of the job. It happened. Too often for her. But… a part of the job.

"I'm fine with coming in early tomorrow," she told Belle. Her hands fell to her hips. "As long as we finish up today with some prep work."

Belle's smile was bright and grateful. "I have absolutely no problem with that."

"Maybe Henry will want to come with me," she murmured to herself. "I'd rather not leave him home alone for so many hours."

There would be no one to check up on him since her neighbor…

She froze automatically, instantly confused and annoyed by her thoughts.

She didn't know him. He wasn't anybody to her. Not… Just because Henry had seemed to gravitate to the man didn't mean anything either. He was a kid. A kid who saw his father just a quarter of the year.

It was as if every single doubt she'd had about the man had risen up inside of her all at once. And all because of what? The mere thought that if possible, it would have been okay to leave Henry home for a few hours because there would have been a responsible adult not far away?

A life that wasn't riddled with doubts and second thoughts. That's what she wished her life was like. But, of course not. This was her. This was Emma Swan: guard up and never quite trusting.

She'd had years to perfect the quirk. So why dwell on it now?

"No time like the present, huh?" Emma sighed, her hands falling to her sides. "Let's get started."

.

.

Emma knocked on Henry's bedroom door before she opened it. She hadn't waited for an invitation to come in, feeling quite confident with the fact that he wouldn't have any problem with the fact.

"Hey, Mom."

She smiled at him, but it faltered as she saw the iPad sitting in his hands. It was possible that he was doing one of many things, but the chatter that came from it told her that it was one thing in particular.

"Are you Skyping with your dad and the kids?" she asked in a whisper. Not that it had mattered, because if he _was _Skyping, then they would have clearly heard him greet her.

"Oh." Henry looked down at the iPad. "Yeah. It's just dad around though." He turned the iPad around quickly, and she became witness to her ex more suddenly that she was prepared for.

"I can see your legs, but… hello, Emma. How are you doing?"

Henry chuckled at that, and readjusted the camera. "Better, Dad?"

"Better."

"I'm doing great," Emma told him with a smile. "Hi, Neal." Her eyes found Henry's again. "You can have him back now."

It was with a big smile on his face that he turned the pad back around.

"I just came in to see if you want to go to the movies tonight," Emma told him. "I have to go to work tomorrow, unexpectedly. So we can get in some time together tonight. What do you think?"

He was quick to nod. "Yeah. Sounds great."

Emma couldn't help the way her eyes slid back to the iPad. To where her ex was.

"Go ahead and finish up with your dad," she said softly. "I'll check out the listings, come up with a couple, and we can pick from there."

She didn't wait for an answer from him. She just wanted to get out of the room. Just needed to step away and be in her own space. Alone.

Emma closed the door behind her, pressing her back to it for just a moment. She could still hear both of their voices.

What was it? Her smile was mirthless, because she knew. It wasn't as if she and Neal had a bad relationship. Not in the least. If there was ever a civil divorce, it was their divorce. But…

It was the visual of seeing him. It was one thing to picture the happy family that he had made in Tallahassee. It was something altogether to witness it. It was one thing to think about the relationship that had started spiraling downward. It was something else to see the upward swing that Neal had had from it.

And it was always so easy to read it on his face. It was always so easy to hear it in his voice. He hadn't forgotten about Henry. He had made sure to make his firstborn just as much a part of the family as the rest.

It made it easier to see who was… not at fault, but…

How could she put the blame anywhere else about her failures than right there at her feet?

Perfect. Her mood now, when she had wanted nothing more than to enjoy an evening with her son, was now sullied.

Failed. Failing. Will fail. It was her past, her present, and her future.

Now…

How to get over the deep-seeded feeling so that her son was none the wiser.

She moved then, her steps slow and moving her down the hallway.

.

.

**Saturday 10:54p.m.**

_I'm going to call you._

_**Why would you do that?**_

_I want to hear your voice, Emma Swan. Now I do understand that I am again risking this delicate balance that we have._

_**What does that supposed to mean?**_

_I'm risking you shutting down on me. I'm risking the regression to those times we've met in person. I'm risking you having nothing but contempt for me. Again._

_It hurt a bit. Right in the heart. I have a huge heart, Emma. And you got me right there in the center of it._

_**It's late.**_

_Not late at all._

_**For me, it is. I'm in bed.**_

_Pillow talk._

_Well not exactly. _

_._

If she was honest with herself, she would have admitted that she had thought about him that day…

Emma bit down on the inside of her cheek as she looked at the ringing phone in her hand. He'd been right. So why was he calling? She felt the scale tip towards discomfort with every passing second. Right when the scale had been barely passed level, towards the positive side even. And she _had_ seen it as a positive.

It was difficult living in a bubble. It was difficult feeling the inability to connect to others on a personal level. Every important past encounter had ended so… tragically. At least that was the affect it had on her.

It had been the simple conversation. Just a couple quick words. A total of probably two minutes total out of her day- the time to read a text and the time it took to respond to that text. But it had been the delivery of the whole thing. Very informal. Very comfortable.

It had been nice… eventually. It had been something to look forward to. Damn, it had only been four days! And it wasn't like she had went the entire day wondering if he would keep to their scheduled time. It had just crossed her mind…

Damn! It was the man from across the hall for God's sake! It was the man who had tried to… _bond _with her son without her knowledge. It was the man who had tried, unsuccessfully, to _bond _with her as well. And that was when the queasiness entered the equation.

It wasn't that he had been different in this situation- through text messages. She guessed that he was right about something: it had become a delicate balance. Texting was easier. Texting had allowed her to be not so guarded.

Emma didn't always want to be guarded. She'd just had so many years of great practice at it. Her guard being up was a protective shield. It made it easier to block out the people who were no good. There was a reason why she didn't open up. It was because men had their own agenda. The heart and the hurt of a woman didn't matter. That part was expendable. It was just that she had very little room in her heart for hurt anymore. She was already too broken for that. Hadn't the situation with Neal just showed her that?

What did he want with her? She shouldn't trust it. Shouldn't trust _him. _He was one in the same. The man in in the text messages was the man from across the hall, who was the man calling her. And the man across the hall hadn't been… horrible. But her defenses had went straight up at day one. So wasn't she supposed to trust that instinct? Not trust him. Like everyone else. But…

It _was _everyone else. So…

They were one and the same: man across the hall, man in the text messages, man on the phone.

The ringing stopped in her hand. It hadn't been a conscious thought to let it go to voicemail. She'd just had so many other thoughts in her head that answering hadn't even been a priority.

Maybe that had been a sign. Maybe she had become too comfortable over the past few days. Maybe it was best if she stopped. Right. There.

Emma felt the breath leave her body, having just then noticed that she had been holding it.

The tension came back at one when the phone rang for a second time…

One and the same…

Calling twice, huh?

Her thumb slid over the bar, connecting the call. And this time she noticed exactly when her breath stuttered.

"Hello."

"You answered."

The voice over the phone was reminiscent of the voice she'd heard in person. The automatic tension caused by worry and distrust had bubbled to the surface.

"You called me twice. Seems a bit much too me."

His laugh conjured up his cocky grin. Hm…

"Ms. Emma Swan." It was thicker over the line. But it was just as assured as she remembered it to be. "Can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?" She cleared her throat quietly. She had heard the stiffness in it. That could be a dead giveaway.

"Well, this is assuming that you finally got around to saving my number," he said slowly.

"What?" Where could he possibly be going with that?

"I was wondering… what name did you use to add me to your contact list?"

Her eyes squinted and she slouch against her headboard.

"What?"

"You see, _your _number is saved in my phone as Emma Swan." There was a smile in his voice. She was sure that it matched his face. "So I wondered what am I stored as. Because, to be honest with you, I have never heard you speak my name."

It made the wheels in her head turn. Her neighbor. She always referred to him as her neighbor. He had noticed. _She _hadn't even noticed that fact.

"I know your name," she whispered.

"Oh, no doubt, love."

Did he just call her…

"I'm just waiting on the day I hear it fall from your lips."

He was making her nervous. Maybe this was too much. Maybe she liked text messaging over everything else.

"Emma?" It was soft. It had a soothing quality to it. There was something that was missing. Or maybe something that was added.

"Yes?"

A short pause. Before…

"How was your day?"

Maybe….

"It… was fine. My day was fine." Asking him how his day would be appropriate. It also furthered along conversation. She didn't feel queasy, but strange. Too strange. "How was your day? How was work?"

There was another pause. It made her want to know what he was thinking. Why had he called? Other than to hear her voice.

"Uh, tracking down politicians to speak instead of leaving it up to their representatives." A short laugh. "Just another day out of the office."

"Well it was another day _in _the office for me," she said softly. Emma's eyes darted across the nearly bare bedroom before they finally stopped on the wall straight ahead.

"You worked today? On a weekend day?" He sounded surprised, but easy. Was he always easy?

"I thought you Googled my working conditions," she whispered.

"I actually like to get my information straight from the source," he confided in her. And there was something about his voice. Something genuine.

Wasn't she a good judge of character? Hell, yes! So why was she letting her defenses down? There was a part of her that wanted to hang up in his face and bury herself under the covers. And, yet, there was another part of her that needed to act her age. She was a grown woman. Not some kid. Yes, she'd been hurt. But she was an adult who knew how to act that way.

"Sometimes plans change and we accommodate for those changes," she told him. "I'm usually good for a forty-hour work week. Sometimes it can be more."

"My schedule can be flexible, too." He said it with a sigh. "I like freelance work. I like the online edition of the paper as well. It gives me the opportunity to not be stuck in the office so much."

He was easy. But it was different from the way he was in person. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Was there a façade to him as well? Or had it been that damn guard that she always had up?

It wasn't supposed to be easy with him. It wasn't easy with anybody.

Emma listened to him talk. She listened to the way he explained about his job. She listened to him speak of his brother, Liam and Liam's wife, Ruby. And she smiled at the way he referred to the baby as "the bump."

She asked, albeit timidly, about what he had shared with Henry. She admitted that she had been surprised by the amount of art. And maybe it had been an opening to get to Henry and even to her.

She listened as he tried to assure her that he believed her son to be a great young boy with a good head on his shoulders. And he apologized again for the misunderstanding. Single mom and all, he got it. Believe him, Liam had called him an idiot far more times than he could count.

Henry was still a subject she wasn't completely sold on. It was just them. She needed her son to be one hundred percent safe, because he was all she had.

She told him, with caution, that she'd enjoyed her work since the time she divorced Henry's dad. How she had lived in and around Boston for most of that time. How she considered herself nowhere near as artistic as he seemed to be, but there was definitely an artistic flair than was called for the job.

It was later, after he'd said her name again.

"Emma?"

There were things that she needed to remember: she was more than a little broken, and something inside her had said to be leery of him.

"What?" Caution was good. Always good.

"I must say that I like you, Emma Swan."

Had he expected her to swoon in her bed at the words he'd used? She hoped not, because….

"What is it that you possibly like about me? You don't know me."

It was a personal pet peeve of hers. She wasn't one of those women who dropped at the canned phrases that were always used. She didn't want them. She didn't need them. She hated them!

"If you haven't notice, Emma, I _am _getting to know you." The way he said it left no room for interpretation.

A few minutes of exchanging personal information didn't mean…

"I have to go now." That was her answer for him.

"Okay." Just as soft as anything else he'd said to her. "Just one last thing?"

"What?"

He laughed. "Will you tell me goodnight? Will you say my name, Emma?"

Her eyes blinked once, twice, three times.

"What is with your obsession of yours to hear me say your name?" It was odd. It wasn't just her. It was an actual oddity.

"Make me feel like a… human being." It's not what she'd expected in answer.

"Good night." It was more of the point that he'd made the request as to why she wanted to deny it. And another point was that… she'd never said it. Hadn't known why. But she'd never said it…

"Killian." She felt the quickening of her heart. And decided that she hated it. "Good night."

"Good night, Emma," he- Killian- whispered.

Emma pulled the phone from her ear and promptly disconnected the call. It was only then that she noticed the amount of heat that was radiating from it. How long had they…

She refused to believe the amount of minutes that had ticked away.

Absolutely. Refused. To.

.

.

31:17

The number blinked at him for all of one second, but it seemed to have magical properties to his body. But even more than that had been hearing her last words.

_Killian. Good night._

He'd almost not made that call. Had known that her reaction could go either way. But…

What he said had been true. Killian had wanted to hear her voice. He had saw the way she had loosened up to him. If he made a move too soon, the she would close in on herself and put him back in some category that he knew he didn't fit it.

The fact that she had listened and had seemed to be fairly interested was a nice point. It was her ability to share with him, though, that sealed the deal.

He couldn't wait to see her again. He didn't mind going at this speed. He didn't mind that it had taken her, in this particular order, to open up to him. The point was that it was happening.

It was the knock on the hotel room door that had finally pulled him away from his thoughts.

"Damn." The curse was bitten out. He'd nearly forgotten. _Had _forgotten. Had gotten happily distracted by Ms. Emma Swan.

Killian was quick to move towards the door. At this time of night, it was only one person.

"Morgan, love."

Morgan Callahan, so pretty and petite. And, oh how did the bare legs peaking from underneath the three-quarter coat promise something enticing from underneath.

"Killian Jones." Her light voice was full of sensuality. "You haven't been back to Springfield for quite a while. I'm so happy to see you."

If that bit of tongue was any indication…

"Are you going to invite me in or what?"

"Morgan, please…" Killian took a side-step and opened the door wider. "Join me in my room."

He watched with an appreciative glint as she did just that. And there was nothing that wasn't enjoyable about getting to see that view.

"I'm glad you told me about your plans, Killian. It would have been such a boring Saturday night if you hadn't."

She turned then, offering up another smile.

"Well I'm glad you were able to make it," he assured her. "Who knows what my night would have been like if you hadn't."

"Oh, sure." That smile turned all-knowing.

Morgan.

The call had been made before Emma. Long before he had texted her. Long before the half-hour conversation had consumed him.

But here he was. And here was Morgan.

One day, and maybe one day soon, things could be different. But for now…

"Let me help you with your coat, love."

.

.

**A/N: Please don't hate Killian! He really does like Emma. He's so ready to get to know her and be close to her. But remember, he's always been a bachelor. And one who doesn't know when he'll settle down. He has not been exclusive with a woman in forever! And he has a couple of girls he sees whenever the chance comes up and when he is in the mood for it.**

**Emma will definitely be the one to put a stop to this casual thing. He's going to fall hard!:)**


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: I don't say it enough: Comments are so appreciated and they feed my muse. They make me think. They impact me as a writer. I'd love to know what you guys are thinking!**

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><p><strong>Tuesday 1:44 p.m.<strong>

_I'm going to need your email address._

_**Why?**_

_Because it'll be a hell of a lot easier to bombard you with the hassles of my job. I won't feel so bad about needing to send a 1000 + character message._

_**Are you having one of your days?**_

_I love American politics. I really do. American politicians are completely the best at getting around any and all types of utter BS._

_**When did you move to here? To the US I mean. And how in the hell did you even get into politics?**_

_We're full of questions today, aren't we? _

_**You texted me…**_

_As far as my career path, I think that deserves a face to face conversation. Did you get the hint rolling around in there as well?_

_But Liam and I came over when I was 18. And THAT would be one of those 1000+ character message things. _

_Send me your email address, Emma._

_**Fine.**_

* * *

><p>The pretty and intricately placed hanging décor was nice to look at. It was aesthetically pleasing to her eye, the designers' eye, and most importantly the customers' eye. It was the delicate, and sometimes precarious, setup to get everything looking so perfect. Depending on each and every facet, the job had its moments of needing extreme precision.<p>

Watching the old display with a whimsical eye, and remembering the hours that had taken to make it nothing but perfect, Emma wasn't sure if she was ready to get down to business of dismantling the work of art.

An artistic flair…

"Do you think that Friday we will get out of here at a decent time?"

Emma shrugged at Belle's question, her gaze following the other woman who was up on the ladder.

"I don't think that there should be any reason that we wouldn't."

"Good." The word was murmured as she pulled hooks and pins from the dangling décor from above her head. "That's good. Because…" Her turn was sudden, her eyes somewhat questioning. "I was trying to make plans."

But what was new about?

"With Will…"

Emma felt the sharp intake of breath at the mention of the name. Annoyance with that fact gave her at least something to concentrate on other than letting her mind slip to…

"Emma, do you have plans for this Friday?"

And that question did surprise her.

"Friday?" Her eyes found Belle's once again. "Unless it's with Henry or for Henry, I usually don't make plans. You…" She shook her head, focusing this time on the box on the floor just some feet away. They were going to need that box. For work. For what they were now doing.

"Well, that's good!"

It was too cheerful. It was confusing.

Emma scooped up the mid-sized cardboard box that was only covered at the bottom with the same hooks and pins.

"Okay."

She heard Belle's laugh. "Oh, it's good for a reason. I wanted to ask you something about getting together Friday night. To get you out of the house. I can't really say to go out or anything, because we both wanted to invite you over to my place."

"We?"

The whole conversation was coming off as odd. She'd known Belle for a few years as it was. And even though she considered her to be a friend as well as a coworker, their interactions didn't usually go outside of the confines of work.

"Me and Will," Belle clarified.

"Are you having a party or something?" If it sounded cautious then it was because she couldn't help it.

That's when Belle turned away from the job she was doing so that she could face Emma.

"Something like a small dinner party," she said. But it was the way that she said it that made Emma question even that. The smile on her face was what sealed the deal on the caution. "Will has a friend. His name is-"

"His name?"

"His name is Robin-"

"Oh, God, Belle!" Emma couldn't even contain the need to roll her eyes at the mere suggestion of what her friend was trying to do. "Please, don't. Just please."

She turned away from, shaking her head when she caught a glimpse of Belle making her way down the ladder. What had ever possessed her to even make the suggestion? She didn't ask, not wanting to perpetuate the conversation for any longer.

"It would be the four of us."

It seemed as if Belle didn't need the encouragement to continue. She had no problem with keeping with her campaign.

"A nice dinner that I'll do all the preparing for," she continued. "And Robin is a really great guy, Emma."

She couldn't stop from shaking her head. This was just ridiculous.

"I haven't heard you talk about a guy in… forever. So I was just thinking."

"No."

Emma's mind was already spinning when she had turned back around to face the other woman. She shook her head again.

"No."

But the damage was done. It should have been taken as a nice gesture. It should have put a shy smile on her face.

"I don't date," she told her softly. And she made sure her eyes didn't give away any telltale signs. "You're right. I haven't dated in a long time. It… wouldn't be a good idea."

"But, Emma." Belle sounded hopeful, as if trying to immerse some of that hope into Emma. "I think that he could be absolutely _perfect _for you!"

It's soft and sweet. Just like Belle. But…

Emma shook her head again. "No, thank you."

The fact that she was immediately apprehensive only made her feel worse…

"Are you absolutely sure about that?"

About herself.

She was broken. She and men didn't work out.

"You have _days_ to think about it." Belle kept pushing, no matter how gentle the push was. But it didn't change anything. At least not in the direction that she was hoping for.

It had now become a lot harder to keep up with the façade. There was a heaviness in her eyelids that made her have to work at keeping them lifted. There was a heaviness that seemed to creep through her bones, making her want to drop everything that she was doing and find a quiet spot away from the gentle pushing.

"It really doesn't matter, Belle." She said it without the normalcy that she could muster. "I'm not going to change my mind."

"Well, if not this time…"

She had left it open-ended. Not that it mattered to Emma. It had already done its job. It had triggered something in her.

With the cardboard box in her arms and with Belle climbing her way back up the ladder, it was professionalism that kept her going. That kept her from running away to hide inside of herself. Because… The trigger had been just that great.

It wasn't only the fact that being alone was the fate that she was dealt. It wasn't only that past relationships had sealed her fate. The fact that even the proposal of being set up had proved something. Belle's proposal had surfaced the fact that… she wasn't worthy. She didn't even feel worthy of trying to not be alone.

Emma looked up at Belle. The conversation had not affected her. It was work as usual.

She was going to need a moment. A minute. To…

"Belle? Belle, I have to… get my phone. Okay? Is that okay?"

"What?" She was only half paying attention, already back to the task at hand.

"I'll be right back." Emma told her. The box was already out of her hands and down to the floor.

"Oh. Yeah. I'm fine here."

"Great." Because she wasn't.

Because instead of being okay, Emma was plagued by thoughts of failed relationships. Failed relationships that had been her fault because she hadn't known how to be open. Relationships that had ended because she had not known how to give more of herself.

Graham had loved her. He had really and truly loved her. He had been open. And had only wanted her to be that way, too.

Things between them had been far too easy in some aspects, and far too difficult in others. Why did she feel the need to keep him her little secret? Why hadn't she been able to share her life with him?

He had wanted things she couldn't give. It had been six months. That was too soon to meet Henry. Henry was… indispensable. She had really cared for Graham, had loved him, but there was always going to be a need for caution.

He had said that he had understood. But what about sharing parts of herself? It had been funny at the time. What did that mean?

When it was good, it was really good. Caring and compassionate, that was Graham. And she hadn't meant to keep him at arm's length. She hadn't even noticed that his simple request had a deeper meaning than the words themselves. How was she supposed to know that if he asked her to spend just this one night with her, that the refusal was putting a darkening spot on _them_? How was she supposed to know that backing away from the smallest displays of affection when others were around would make him doubt in her? If only he'd said something sooner…

The talk had come too late. It had come after he'd already made the decision that this just wasn't right for him.

Emma had cared for Graham. Damn it, she had loved him. In her own sheltered and guarded way. But it had been too late. Too late to fix what was broken in her.

So if her relationship with Graham had proven anything to her, it was that her worthiness of love was nonexistent. And it had only been back up with the evidence with her relationship with Walsh.

So…

Belle had been wrong. She had been terribly wrong.

He wasn't _perfect_ for her. When it came to relationships, when it came to men, _perfect_ for _Emma_ _Swan_ was synonymous with _alone_.

The sooner she realized that, then maybe the sooner the heartache over her reality would become. And then she wouldn't be forced to run from every damn situation.

.

.

She wanted nothing more than to sink down in her seat until they left the porch. Or better yet, she wanted to already be inside of her home before this family get together had already started. What she didn't want was to have to walk past Killian Jones and his family. She didn't want the looks or stares that were bound to be there. She didn't want him to smile at her or wink at her, as if there was a shared secret between them.

The thought of backing out of the driveway and leaving for a short drive had crossed her mind as she had pulled up. But Henry was at home. He had been home alone for over an hour now. And all she really wanted to do was be home.

It was with a fierce determination for herself to be an adult in the situation that made her get out of the car. She just needed for him to take one look at her and note that she was not in the mood for his eyes and deep timbre of his voice (that really did have a slight difference from that of his phone conversations).

Emma could feel the way her heart began to beat a little faster. It was from the pressure that she was putting on herself. She was making something out of nothing at all. It was all in her head that Killian wanted more than the simple text message slash late night phone call sessions.

He had become an outlet to breathe in those situations. Who would have known that she was so in need of what he had offered her? Their conversations, text or over the phone, had the ability to break through the intensity of her day. And never let it be said that most of that tension had come from pressures she'd put on herself. She liked it. She could even go as far as to admit that she appreciated the interesting friendship that they'd attained. She could admit to liking him.

That didn't mean that it had transferred into something more. It didn't mean that looking at him, now, meant that she saw that same man. Face to face. Personal. Emma understood. She knew they were the same. But… it was different. And as all the tension seeped into her shoulders and her neck, she offered a stiff nod to both him and the woman, Ruby, on her way up the steps

"Emma Swan."

Her name as way of greeting slowed her steps. She turned to look at him. He'd been standing at the far end of the porch. And he stayed there. He hadn't tried to bombard her into putting two and two together. She knew it was the reason for some of that tension to melt. But only slightly.

"Hello."

"My apologies, love." It was directed to his sister-in-law. Not her. "Emma, this is my sister-in-law, Ruby." His hand was thrown out at the woman, who was already moving from her seat with an extended hand.

"Ruby, this is Emma."

Her smile was genuine, and the glow shone through without a doubt.

"Hi." She tried to make it normal. She strived for congeniality and social norms. "It's nice to meet you."

Ruby's hand was soft, small, and warm against hers. Close to eight months pregnant, she was one of the lucky ones that seemed to carry all in her middle. The glow seemed right, even without the plumpness of her face.

"It's nice to meet you, too," Emma told her.

It seemed to only make the glow all the more prevalent.

"We've heard a little about you is all," Ruby continued.

"Ruby."

It had been a warning, clear and simple, coming from Killian.

Emma's eyes raised to him, seeing only the slightest movement in him.

"His old neighbors were… old." Ruby looked back at him, too. "That's fair to say, right? So to have someone to connect with was a nice addition." She slipped away from Emma then, turning fully around. "Don't look at me like that."

"Please forgive my sister, Emma." The mutter was accompanied by the slide of his eyes onto her. A slight raise of one brow and an innocent smile crossed his face. "She seems to think that it's okay to say whatever comes to mind with little regard. It's only gotten worse in the past few months."

"I know you've seen me and Liam around a lot," Ruby said, looking back at her. "That happens. So you shouldn't be a stranger. I'd love to get to know you."

Emma had listened to the exchange. Had listened as they talked to each other and had listened when they talked to her. There was a genuine quality to them both, and to their relationship, that came across. And maybe a little too strongly.

Ruby was looking at her, waiting and anticipating the response she was supposed to give. And Killian…. She noticed then just the way his eyes had begun to take in parts of her. As if he knew her. As if he had the right to admire something in her. And it was…

Too much.

Emma's mouth opened to speak, but it was her legs that did the moving first.

"Thank you."

She didn't make friends easily. Even that type of relationship made her put her guard up. Friendliness could sometimes have the opposite affect that was originally implied.

Ruby was… a part of Killian. Attaching more parts of herself to him was… It had to be a conscious effort on her part. To be mindful of what she was doing.

"I'm sure I will continue to see you around." Emma offered a smile to the pregnant woman, whose hands slipped over her growing belly.

She'd been pregnant. It had been so long ago. But it was that simple instinct that Ruby had had that sent her back there. When life had been really good. When she had been married and had loved and had been loved. So long ago…

"I have to get it and check on my son right now," Emma continued. "So maybe another time. It was nice to finally meet you."

Her eyes slipped past Ruby to glance back at Killian. Just for a second.

"Talk to you soon."

She nodded at that, and was quick to turn back towards the door.

He hadn't pushed…

Slipping through the door, it had been her first thought. He hadn't pushed. Their encounters had been brief in the weeks since they'd exchanged that first text message. She always expected him to… to be different from the one she talked to on the phone. And yet… in this instance…

Emma shook her head. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to compare and contrast the scenarios.

"Emma."

The voice had snuck up on her. It had surprised her as she stood facing her door to open it.

"Liam, hello." It was with a brief turn of her head that she saw him closing Killian's door behind him.

"How are you doing?"

He wanted to be cordial. He wanted her to take a moment to acknowledge one another. And all she wanted to do was to go inside her own apartment.

Emma turned then, saw the smile on his face for her, and the way he held his hands together out in front of him.

He wasn't his brother, but she saw more and more of the similarities. She'd liked him from the beginning. She really had. It must have been the quiet demeanor. Maybe it was the strong and silent persona that went along with it. Maybe it had been the ever-there twinkle in his eye when he was with his brother. Then again….

Maybe it was because he was safe. There had been no need to question his motives. Not with the ring on his finger. He was a married man, with a baby on the way. A seemingly happily married man with a baby on the way, who wouldn't have a hidden agenda at being personable with her. Maybe that was it…

"I'm fine," she told him. "I'm really fine."

The doorknob behind her was beginning to turn then, the door opening for her.

"Hey, Mom."

Or maybe not _for _her. She watched as Henry bound from inside and out into the hallway.

"I'm going to go out front with Killian, okay?" He was already moving, and had only glanced back her way. "He said that I should wait until you got home, just in case. But you don't care, do you, Mom?"

Her son had found something in Killian that was a little peculiar to her. But boys needed men, right? His father was away, and he had found someone else to connect to.

She wanted to sigh out all of her wariness. Her life… What had it become?

"That's fine."

And she saw the smile grow, and tried not to feel any certain way about it.

"Hi, Liam."

"Hi, Henry." There was a smile in his voice as he watched her son leave. Watched him leave to hang out with his brother.

"I… need to get inside, Liam," Emma told him, wanting to shake her head but stopping herself. "I'll see you around."

"Emma?"

She had already turned, had been able to see her haven right with her own eyes.

"Yeah?" She was wary about turning back to him.

"Killian told me… that…"

She didn't even want to know where this was going.

"You two are getting along a lot better than before."

And even that made her beyond curious as to why Killian felt the need to share anything about her with the people in his life.

"Yeah, well-"

"He likes you."

Liam had cut off her attempt to sweep the friendship under the rug. Like it didn't matter. Like it hadn't been a bright spot on many days just to talk to someone like him. But Liam's words had stopped all of that.

"Yeah, well." She didn't stop the need to roll her eyes that time. "I don't know what exactly he likes about me, Liam."

His smile was soft and warm as he looked her over.

"I think he likes a lot about you." His answer only made her doubt… everything. "Killian's my kid brother. He lives his life more of the freer side of things. He's a really great guy whose priorities have been all over the place."

"Liam." His name left her mouth slowly and with a lot of confusion. Where was he supposed to be going with this? "Why are you trying to tell me any of this? What is that supposed to mean to me?"

His smile grew, and he took a step that brought him closer to her.

"He likes you, Emma. And it's been really good to see what liking you has done to him." He lowered his head, his eyes meeting the floor beneath them. "I'll see you around, Emma. Have a good day."

And it was with those words that he turned away from her. It was then that he made his way back towards the front door.

And it was with those words that he'd left her, leaning against the threshold, with more thoughts than she'd ever want running around in her head.

.

.

**9:22p.m.**

_I picked up this book that Henry left out front, just in case he realized he'd misplaced it._

**9:57p.m.**

_I brought it inside. Left it outside your door instead of hoarding it._

**10:29 p.m. **

_Okay. You're ignoring me. _

_What happened?_

The shower hadn't been enough. She should have opted for a steaming hot bath. Something she could have soaked her entire body in as she tried to lose every piece of the tension that had built up inside of her.

There were four text messages that were sitting in front of her from that night alone. She had done very well to ignore every single one of them…

It had been too much. She hadn't expected it. Hadn't expected to form a bond with the man across the hall. And that is who Killian Jones was: the man from across the hall. The man who had access to her on too many levels.

She should have never….

_**10:40p.m.**_

_Emma?_

She can hear his voice through that text as clearly as if he'd said her name. She can see the concern marking his face.

_I'm going to call you right now. Answer, okay?_

All she wanted to do was separate the three entities again. All she wanted was for "text guy" to be different from "phone guy" and for them both to be different from "guy across the hall." If they were all separate, then feelings for one could be separate from the others. Because all three together was too much.

Emma listened to the phone ring beside her once and then twice. It wasn't fair to him to start ignoring him again. But it wasn't fair to her to be slammed with a variety of feelings coming at her from all sides.

Liam had said Killian liked her. Why hadn't it crossed her mind that Killian was all three of those entities? Why hadn't she put it together that her ever growing friendship and bond with two parts of him could lead to including that final part? Especially when that final part was such a large part of the man himself. It encased the mental, physical, and emotional. There were ways to have parts in the other two realms of reality. But that last part? There was no way of getting around the total entity that was Killian Jones.

It wasn't fair to ignore him.

But it wasn't fair to be made into realizing everything about what was going on, all at once.

Emma picked up the phone, and wondered was it really the weight of the damned thing or was it the lethargy of her arm that made it feel so heavy. She slid the bar across the screen and watched with lowered lashes as the call connected. It took a moment- just one last moment- for her to bring the phone to her ear. To connect with him.

"Hello."

"What's wrong?"

She wanted to hesitate. No one understood her. No one got how her life was. No one could know how solitude her life was because of the fact that she was damaged. She was a damaged person who had been burned too many times. A loser in not only love, but also in life, because she had never been good enough.

So why did he text her? What made him call her? Why did he waste his late nights talking to her? Why did he look at her as if this time was different? Men… men were all the same. And she'd rather live her life alone than to go through the façade someone put on just to get closer to her, for whatever reasons they may have.

He wanted to know what was wrong with her?

"Nothing." Because it didn't matter.

"Then… why were you ignoring me?" The concern in his voice was growing. She'd said a total of two words, and yet his concern was growing.

"Because I don't text you back right away then I must be ignoring you?" She asked it with a laugh. A laugh that have very little meaning for her.

There was a pause on his end. It was because he was weighing out her words. And Emma had known that instinctively. She could see the way he caught his lip between his teeth and the way his thumb skimmed over her chin.

God! She needed it all to stop! She had gotten too close for her own comfort.

"Not because you didn't text me right back," Killian murmured. And she heard the sigh from the other end. "It's because you are at home and I know your routine. I know that you've been out of the shower for at least an hour now. And I know that you are your bed right now and would be close to falling asleep if not for us being on the phone. That is… unless something is wrong. If something was wrong, then you would have looked at my messages each time they came in and promptly ignored each one. Now it may have made you feel a bit awkward in doing so. I guess it all depends on what exactly is wrong. So…"

He'd left it open-ended. But there was so much to process even before then.

The fact that he knew her routine had gotten her heart to speed up just a little. It was scary to think that in the long weeks that they'd been getting to know one another, it had come to a point where he could pick up on her cues. But it was even more startling to her heart that, if she let herself think about it, she would be able to do the same for him. She could see the nightly ritual that would eventually lead to their phone conversation. She could see it all to clearly.

And it made her nervous. It made her nervous to put each component of him together to make one man. It made her nervous to know that that man was not someone who she should have or no longer look at with total caution. Because… honestly…

"You're a nice guy."

His laugh was that deep and rich laugh.

"Does that surprise you?" His voice had a teasing silky quality to it.

But the teasing didn't make the fears stop growing. It didn't stop her need to process all of the information that had been new to her.

"It does."

It wasn't only that he was a nice guy. How was she supposed to trust that? How was she supposed to trust that when she was used to not trusting anyone? When her world had proven that _mistrusting_ was always the lesser of two evils.

"Well, that's just because you didn't want to see it." It was teasing again. "Emma, that's not it."

He didn't know her. That is what she wanted to keep believing. She needed to believe that their conversations hadn't meant more than having something to do at night. And during the day. Or sporadically when she was at work. But…

There had been an intimacy between them that she hadn't put a name to. There had been a connection that she hadn't realized that had been made. Until…

"Killian?"

"You're about to shut down." _Good perception_. "Emma, don't shut down on me."

It was what she wanted to do. It was the only thing that seemed right in this situation. To close herself off from everyone, and especially him. To dig herself underneath the covers and stay there until it was a must that she got up. By that time, then she would have been able to put back on the face that said she was okay. Then nobody would be any wiser to the truth. Just her.

"I have to go now," she told him. "I can't do this over the phone with you right now."

"Then don't." It was something about the way he said it…

_Fine. _She didn't need someone to hold her up. She did that all on her own. She had been doing that all on her own for years now.

"Let's talk in person instead." It was firm and resolute. Not surprising. "We'll do a neutral place. I won't come to your apartment. You won't come to mine. Meet me out on the porch, Emma. In two minutes. Meet me outside."

The nervousness was spreading. The feel of damp palms only…

"Don't overthink it." He'd cut off her thoughts. Had, of course, known her.

Emma didn't know what had prompted her. Maybe it was his conviction.

Her eyes swept across the room, not focusing on anything in particular.

"Fine. Two minutes."

.

.

"You said neutral, but to me this seems like all you."

How many times had she seen him there on that porch? It had been the bulk of where their encounters had taken place. Other than that, they'd only met in the hall. This spot brought up memories of who he was. The family guy. It was always him and his brother. And his sister-in-law.

He was watching her. Leaning against the railing of the porch, he was watching her as she stood just outside that door. It was the same as it had been earlier that evening. He was far away, not too close. He was watching her, but not leering in a way that would have made her cautious. But maybe that in itself made her wonder and cautious.

"It's definitely neutral," Killian assured her softly. "Common area and such." His head angled slightly, his eyes still on her. "I must say, Emma, that you look rather adorable."

The comment made her glanced down at the flannel pajamas that she was wearing.

"Adorable?" She would have never said adorable. The fact that he'd commented… If she'd known that he would… It wouldn't have changed anything. It wouldn't have made her take thirty seconds of those two minutes to look at herself in the mirror to double-check. Nope. Not at all.

"Adorable," he confirmed.

The smile that had broken across his face had frozen there. It was small. And he was silent.

What was he thinking? Had this been the right choice?

Emma was slow to step away from the door, her eyes falling on the set of chairs that sat halfway between herself and him.

Killian's movement was just as slow. He looked just past her as he stood straight up, his hand gripping the rail behind him. She listened to the breath leave from his mouth and the way he finally looked back at her.

"This is something new, huh?"

Who was he?

"I guess so."

But Emma feared that she had a better idea than she wanted to believe. He was many things. Things that she'd discovered over a period of time.

She didn't want to concentrate on any of that. She had a chance, right here and right now, to forcibly look at the situation. Not run. To look at it head on.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest and she bit down on her inner cheek.

"Thanks for the book." Because that was easy. That was safe.

Killian crossed his own arms over his chest.

"No problem at all." He leaned back into the rail then, the smile on his face all but an illusion.

This time, the glow of his eyes isn't… as mistrustful. Or maybe it was her.

"Henry?"

It makes her raise an eyebrow at her son's name falling from his lips- from Killian's lips.

"He's asleep?"

Emma was slow to nod. "Yes. He's asleep."

She watched as he was slow to nod as well. Their friendship. That was genuine. It had been okay to first question why he had befriended her son. But she had seen a truth between the two. It was difficult, sometimes, to think that anyone else should be close to her son. It had been a reason to keep him far from the other men she'd known. Henry was special, to her. So what did this friendship mean?

"We had a good time this evening." His smile widened this time, and his arms unfolded. "I have this amazing camera on loan from one of the photographers from the newspaper. We got to take a few shots with it. He seemed to really like it."

He encouraged a hobby that Henry had. He did more than encourage it. He pushed it to be something.

"Did he tell you about it?"

Her eyes blinked at the question, caught somewhat off guard.

"Um… no. No he didn't."

He nodded again. "Well at least I thought he had enjoyed it." He bit down on his lip with that, his eyes dancing on her.

Emma found her head turning towards him, looking him over so closely.

Killian. He had all three entities working at the moment. And that should have been scary. It _was _a bit scary. And as he turned the subject, as he kept their conversation going light and easy (she knew why he was keeping it light and easy), she saw her thoughts turn again.

This was wrong. She felt exposed, standing next to him. It was one thing to do this over the phone. It was something else to do this with him standing in front of her.

He'd stopped, all of a sudden. Or she'd finally noticed the lull in voices and conversation. And she noticed how he'd stopped to watch her again.

"What?" Emma asked. It was full of skepticism. Full of doubt for the man in front of her.

Killian shook his head, that bottom lip poked out.

"I was just wondering." It was soft, and his brows pulled together into a frown. "Just what are you thinking, Emma Swan?"

"Nothing." She shook her head. "Nothing."

There was another quiet moment, where nothing was spoken. There was only…

"How are you feeling?"

It reminded her of the first time he'd asked her that. Over the phone. She remembered the sincerity of that one simple question. Having it asked in front of her, being able to see the way he leaned in just slightly, the way his eyes pinpointed certain spots on her…

A mess. She was feeling a mess. But she couldn't say that. Not to him.

"I'm fine."

It was when he moved, when Killian had slipped even closer to her and away from the railing, that she felt even that slight glimmer of reality in her answer slip away from her.

This was wrong. She never should have come out her.

"Killian?"

His hand reached out and grasped her arm, letting it slip down until it held her hand.

"That's the first time you've said it." His eyes were an intense blue, which contradicted the smile on his face. "So don't take away my sheer _happiness _of this momentous account by shutting down again." His hold on her tightened, and he moved closer again. "Emma?"

Three entities rolled into one, right in front of her. And it was still overwhelming. Because her past and showed and told her what life was like. It had showed her what she was afforded. And it wasn't the genuine man who was in front of her.

So who did she trust?

"I…"

"Want to run?" His fingertips smoothed over her arm until they laced together with hers. A slow gesture that sent tingles through every part of her. "Don't run. Talk to me."

Emma shook her head, her eyes staying on his. "This isn't me. I don't… have relationships like this one. And… I don't… understand it."

That smile remained through the slight twitch.

"I like you, Emma Swan," Killian whispered, his fingers tightening in their embrace with hers. "And I think… that you just told me that you like me, too."

Nothing had quickened her heart more than the words he'd said.

Liam had said…

Killian had said…

She hadn't said, but… It was a new kind of tension, coursing through her body. A tension that hadn't been there in a very long time.

"Emma?"

She pulled her hand from his, shaking her head again. And before she let her mind debate over what was right and what was wrong, and what she wanted or what she'd regret.

She saw the range of emotions that slipped over his face in that second, wondering what she was going to do. And she didn't let that phase her either.

Emma let her hands run over his chest, coming in contact with a very hard and masculine body. Her eyes closed, refusing to think more than she already had about her decision. And as her arms wrapped around his neck and slipped to the back of his head, she felt his own arms slipping around her waist and pulling her tight against him.

It was sudden and immediate that his lips fell over hers. The instant regret made her eyes pop open to come in contact with nothing but closed yet sensuous eyes. The fell closed again at the strong and intense pull from way down deep at her middle.

It had been initiated by her, but…

Killian pulled her even tighter against him, his mouth sliding across her in a slow and intense kiss.

It had been years.

It was impossible to control the tremor. It was impossible to quiet the moan. It was impossible to _not _pull him even closer to her as his tongue slipped inside her mouth.

The need to squeeze everything in to keep from melting completely from the inside on out. The ache…

"Emma."

The murmur came on the heels of feeling his hand grip in her hair.

It was never soft. Only hungry. Hunger drove her. A need to feel _something _again. And he had been willing. With open mouth and giving tongue and greedy hands.

That was before… Before she did let her mind enter the situation. When she let her mind begin to question how wrong this was and the need to protect herself, like always.

Emma's hands found his shoulders and pushed him away from her, separating her mouth from his. Breaking free of the hold he and his kiss had on her. Humming body be damned. It was her head in charge again.

Killian looked dazed when his eyes fell on her, but he didn't push himself back on her. A heaving chest rose and fell, and the lust was overwhelming his gaze now.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to start something I can't finish." She took another step back, widening the gap between them.

"Emma, don't-" His bottom lip was enveloped by his mouth as he watched her move again.

"It doesn't matter that you like me or that… I… I…" She shook her head. "I don't… do… this… at all. So…" And she shook her head again, needing to put her world back in order. Alone. She did things alone. And not with the messiness of feelings for someone else.

"Emma?"

She was still moving, but he'd not taken one step yet.

"I…"

"Say it, Emma. I just need you to be honest with me and say it once. And then I'll be able to deal with this. For now."

What did he want from her? She didn't understand.

"What do you want me to say?"

It was then that he moved, taking a giant step that brought him close to her once again.

Emma stopped herself from immediately closing up and boxing herself in.

"Just tell me that you like me, too." There was no smile, but an intensity that she believed she knew where it stemmed from. "Just tell me that you like me, too, and your leaving me out here won't leave me dying out here without you."

There wasn't a part of her that wanted to admit it. Not now. Not when her mind and body were both spinning out of control. But at least there had been some honesty to it.

Did he deserve her honesty? Even when that honesty turned everything that she knew about on its side?

Her mouth opened before it shut tightly. The whole day played out in front of her in the space of seconds.

"I… like you, too."

If a whispered confession hadn't been good enough for him, if it hadn't confirmed what he'd needed it to, then she didn't realize it. Because Emma did the one thing that felt completely right to her. She turned on her heel and grabbed on to the closest thing to her sanity: the door that would lead her back home.


	9. Chapter 8

"_Killian."_

_It was the way she moaned it against his ear. Or maybe his response to it was heightened by the fact that she said it so seldom._

"_Killian." Emma's hands pressing deep into the muscles of his back. Emma's fingernails clawing their way across his shoulder blades and down his spine._

_If she didn't stop…_

_No. He didn't want her to stop. It felt amazing. Her soft cheek caressing his bearded cheek. Her hands all over him. Her bare leg wrapped tightly over his hip… _

_Damn._

_It was all for her. It was supposed to be all for her. And he had to remember that as her moan into his ear drove _him_ even higher. _

_He needed her. When he slid his lips over hers and kissed her hotly, it was because he needed his lips on hers. He needed to feel her mouth open on his and the way she slipped her tongue inside. He needed that sweet response that she always gave._

_And she gave it. She gave all of herself. _

* * *

><p>Reality dawned on him slowly. When his eyes slid open, he became aware of how he was clutching one pillow firmly in his arms. The bedsheets were twisted at his waist and wrapped around his legs.<p>

A dream.

Another dream.

About her. About them.

_Damn it. _

The dream was becoming a staple. A week filled with dreams that left him waking up to a body humming from his subconscious.

Killian was slow to flip over from his side to lay flat on his back. He stared up at the ceiling above him, his thoughts filling with memories of a dream. The smile on his face lacked any humor. This situation was far from humorous.

The dream had been far too realistic. He could have sworn that he could feel her mouth on his. And he knew that kiss. He'd kissed her once, but the feel and shape of her lips were ingrained in his mind. The sweet taste of her mouth was a memory that he wouldn't soon be forgetting. Her quiet moans and the way she pulled him into her.

_Shit._

Lying there with his mind running free with thoughts of what had happened and what he wanted to happen, he felt the immediate rekindled stirrings of his body following where his mind had lead. And being betrayed by mind and body? What in the hell could he possibly do to stop the inevitable?

The simple answer to his question: he didn't stop the inevitable. Instead, he closed his eyes.

He imagined her walking over to the side of his bed wearing nothing but a smile. He imagined that his primed and hardened body was more than ready to feel her slip herself right over him.

He had a few minutes, he was sure. And even if he hadn't had the time, he would have made the time. Because Emma Swan was the perfect dream. And until the day he had the chance to make it a reality- _damn!- _this was all he had.

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday 3:34p.m.<strong>

_**Hey**__._

_Hi. How are you doing?_

_**I'm fine.**_

_**I wanted to know if you could do me a favor.**_

_Anything, Emma._

_**I already left a message on Henry's phone, but if you can, just check on him maybe once this evening. I have to work over, which is completely out of my hands.**_

_That's not a problem at all. _

_**Thanks, Killian.**_

_We can do dinner._

_**You mean you and Henry.**_

_Yes, of course._

_I think Liam may be around, too. You don't have an aversion to him having pizza, do you?_

_**I think that he would like that.**_

_Okay._

_**Okay. Thanks.**_

_**.**_

A week. More than a week. And she hadn't said one word about it. Hadn't texted one either.

He wasn't surprised that she hadn't mentioned the kiss…

Because if it was left up to her then she would subtract the physical part of their relationship right out of the equation. There was a part of him that could admire the lengths she went to to make sure that she never had to come face to face with him in the week that had past. But only a small part. Because he was far less inclined to continue only seeing her in his dreams.

* * *

><p><strong>Friday 10:42 p.m.<strong>

_All tucked in?_

_**That's one way to put it. I'm in bed. You?**_

_Same._

_It was a long work day. I was in Springfield for most of it._

_**I noticed.**_

_**That you weren't here when I got here.**_

_I should have warned you about that._

_**Why would you need to warn me?**_

_You know why._

_Sorry? (Didn't know if I should apologize for that one.)_

_**Well if you have to ask. **_

_Sorry._

_**It's better without the question mark. It passes as actual sincerity.**_

_Ha ha. Point taken._

_Are you dead tired, Emma?_

_**Not dead tired. Why?**_

_You know why to that as well._

_**I'm not dead tired.**_

_**.**_

There was something about her. Something uniquely special about Emma Swan. And the slow development of this _thing _he had with her was affording him the chance to really appreciate the entire situation. But…

Killian's eyes skimmed over their text conversation. He took in the ease in which the conversation flowed. There were always glimpses of the fire that lay right beneath the surface. It just wasn't as venomous this way. It wasn't shielded by her guard. And it was never turned on him. Not like it had been with they had first met.

It was those messages and thoughts of phone conversations, as well as the barely there occasions that had brought them together face to face, that had him feeling whimsical. There was nothing about her that he didn't like. There was nothing that made him feel incomplete. He only wanted more. More of Emma Swan.

It called for a delicate balancing act. Killian realized right off that it would take time. Time for her to become comfortable with him and begin to open up. He'd always been fine with that. Because there was something at the end of that long dark tunnel. There hadn't been any promises, but he'd had faith. And until she was ready… life would go on. Nothing had to change in his own life. This tentative thing hadn't been defined, and bachelorhood had always been good to him.

And then she had kissed him. Had turned everything that he thought he knew all around.

Killian didn't ask her to join him on the porch as his way to tempt the precarious balance between them. She had been deep inside of herself that night. Something had her trying to escape inside her head and away from… he didn't know how far the need to run had gotten, but he had been caught up in it.

He wouldn't have made the move to kiss her. Not at that point. But she had kissed him. Had run her fingers across his chest and around his neck. And the moment those fingers slipped into some elusive (and apparently erotically charged) spot at the nape of his neck, it had been all hands on deck. And also the start of being unable to keep Ms. Emma Swan off of his mind.

So when he asked her if she was tired, and she had responded with the question as to _why, _of course she had known. She had known that he was in need to hear her voice in his ear. What she probably didn't know was that the need didn't stop there.

As Killian pushed the button to call her, in those long seconds as he waited, he couldn't stop the thought of that kiss from filling his head. A sweet mouth. A giving mouth. Quiet moans. They didn't always have to be quiet though. Would she be a cautious and quiet lover? Would he have to draw out each of her moans? Would she take to his encouraging words and be free, letting him hear just how much she loved what he could make her feel?

"Hello."

He'd worked himself up in those long seconds. Hearing her voice in his ear only made that fact all the more noticeable to himself.

"Hello, Emma." It was quite thick.

"What's up?" She sounded curious. But it was an open kind of curiosity. Not based on some misgiving and mistrustful thought process.

"Are you in a good mood, Emma?"

"Why? Are you ready to take me out of it?" There was a bit of teasing in the question. And he could appreciate that as well.

Was the kiss really never there in the forefront of her mind? Did it truly _not _phase her? And what about the fact that she'd admitted that she liked him? She liked him! And he liked her. Yet, that balancing act barely any marginally different than it had been before that night.

"I'm ready to take you out of it," Killian told her quietly. He noticed the seriousness of his tone he'd adopted from the moment he'd heard her voice. It wasn't supposed to be that way. He didn't want to… chance anything.

He heard the exhale of breath from the other end. He'd hoped it didn't signify the walls.

"What then?" Emma asked. It wasn't as guarded as it could have been, but maybe there was a tinge of apprehension.

"Well, it won't be an intentional thought to ruffle some feathers. I just know we haven't talked about certain things. So why not broaden the scope of our sharing?"

Maybe it had become easy for her. Maybe it had become this complacent thing. Maybe she was so comfortable with the relationship that they'd had, that rocking the boat was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Are you going for something in particular here, Killian?" Emma asked cautiously.

"There are many things that I want to know about you, Emma Swan," he admitted, leaving it up to her interpretation as to what exactly. "I think that I know a lot about you, but there are some areas that I am still blind to." The thought of physically hidden away spots of her body tried to invade his mind, but he wouldn't let them stay. "So maybe we can share. Is there nothing that you want to know about me, Emma?"

She didn't respond immediately. The line had went dead quiet for long seconds.

His need to get her to open up had come at the wrong time. She had done everything to keep her distance from him physically since that night. He had not had as much as a glimpse of her in all that time. Even though she'd kept the text messages and phone calls as normal as before that night, it had been without the acknowledgment of what they'd admitted. And now? Now, his need to push forward was having the opposite effect of what he needed to have.

"You've already practically accused me of being nosey when I ask you tons of questions," Emma finally whispered across the line.

It took off about ten pounds of pressure that had been sitting on his heart. That was only a fraction, but it was definitely a start.

"Well, now you have carte blanche, love," he assured her.

There was a palpable tension crackling through the phone line. He knew that she felt it just as well as she did.

"It's late." The fact popped out as her excuse.

"When it gets too late, I will go willingly," he told her.

There was another pause. Shorter this time. Before…

"What do you want to know?"

"Don't let this scare you," Killian warned, unable to keep the smile out of his voice, "but I want to know everything."

_It scared her._

"Killian?" It was soft and full-on worry.

"But you can start with something that is easy." He used a soothing voice, needing to calm down the anxiety before she shut down. "Come on, Emma. Trust me. Trust in me."

"Trust?"

And maybe that was another clue: she didn't trust easily. But there was a reason for that. He just wanted to know what that reason was.

"Start with me. Is there anything that you wanted to know about me?"

"After you accused me of being nosey?" she asked lightly.

It made him smile, her voice that was more tinged with caution more than that trust.

"I'd love it if-"

"I know what you're trying to get at, Killian." She had cut him off with a harshness that he hadn't expected. "You want to know what's wrong with me."

"What's wrong with you?" It was the way that she had said it that had made his smile fall so suddenly. "Emma, that's-"

"What is wrong with me is that… I'm damaged." She was getting good at a couple of things rather quickly: she was able to cut him off and dismiss his words with a quickness, and she was able to draw those walls up as she did it.

"Emma, no…"

"No, what?" she questioned with a disdain that couldn't be missed. "I don't know me enough to conclude that about myself? Or is it that you don't want to believe that of me?"

"We just did a one-eighty," Killian told her slowly, his head beginning to spin at how things had gotten away from him so quickly. "Emma, wait a minute."

He heard the huff come from her end of the phone. He knew that she was trying. Maybe she got the impression of how things had changed so fast as well.

She was quiet. And all he wanted was to know what had caused her to feel damaged. What was it in her that made her push away from everyone? Because he had a feeling that it wasn't just him…

"All I want is for you to share yourself with me," he confessed to her softly.

Another sigh…

He hadn't pressed her on what happened between them that night. She hadn't brought up the fact that they'd shared a mind-blowing kiss. He hadn't brought up the fact that he'd admitted that he liked her. They hadn't mentioned the terribly important fact that she had admitted that she liked him as well. But he felt as if it was time to be honest and on the same page. With the woman who was ruling his thoughts and desires.

"To give us both the chance to explore more about the person who is beginning to mean a lot to the other one."

Killian imagined the tight hold she'd have on the phone. Her thoughts were her own, but he wanted to know them.

"I like you, Emma," he reminded her. And saying it again, aloud, affected the beat of his own heart. "I like you a lot. And I would love it if you gave me the opportunity to show you that your liking me isn't something to cast doubt on."

He paused there, feeling as if time had been suspended. He needed her to respond to something. He needed her to not be quiet on this topic, and let him know what her thoughts were.

"Killian."

It could have been anything that left her mouth after his name. This was one time where he couldn't read her. She could have turned in any direction. And if she closed herself off again, right then, it would be his fault for pushing. His fault for expressing his need…

"I'm… damaged… okay?" It left her sounding broken. She sounded broken and resolute by that. "I think you think something about me that isn't…" There was confusion marring her voice. "I like you, Killian. I do. But… I'm… damaged. And you don't understand."

He listened to the sadness and finality of her words. It only made him wonder why she felt that way. Damaged didn't come way of birth, he didn't think. At least not with her. It would have been circumstances in life that would have pulled her down. Because there were things that he did know about her that was far from damaged. She needed to realize that.

"I want the chance to prove you wrong," Killian told her gently, hoping beyond hope that he could get through to her. He hadn't cracked walls up Emma yet. But there was so much more to her. Didn't she know that? The woman who spent hours of her time in their relationship was not a broken and desolate woman.

"You think that I'm something I am not," she said warily. "You want me to be something that I am not."

"No," he corrected her. "I want you to be you with me. All of you. And that means sharing with me things that you seem to fear in yourself."

Another pause. Another chance that he had overstepped into something she wasn't ready for.

"When was the last time you opened yourself up to someone, Emma?" he asked, not ready to stop pushing just yet.

"Are you telling me that you haven't bombarded my son with questions about my personal life?" she asked in a whisper.

"My friendship with Henry is free from that of ours," he answered slowly. "You don't really think…"

"No," Emma told him. "No. I… know."

"Emma?"

"You mean a man," she finally said. "You want to know about my last relationship."

It was somewhat accusatory. As if there was an underlining meaning to get her to answer. And there was. But not the way she had made it seem.

"I don't… I haven't… My last relationship ended over three years ago." After the bit of stammer, she let out another sigh. "I told you, Killian, that I don't do this."

Three years.

Three years.

He could have focused on many points that had just come up. But it was the three year break since she was in a relationship. And for some reason, he would bet a pretty penny on it, that there hadn't been anything in between the end of that relationship three years ago and their kiss on the porch more than a week ago.

"I think, Emma, that if you think about it- and I mean really think about it- you will come to realize the significance of what this is between us." Thinking about it himself put a smile on his face. "You see, there is a reason why you feel comfortable enough to share yourself with me, on whatever level it may be. So don't dismiss that fact. Or the fact that you like me and that I like you."

"Killian…" An inhalation of breath. A chance to turn and run.

"What are you thinking right now?" He didn't know what it was, but could maybe gauge where she was at by her answer.

"I'm thinking… you think you know me, when you… don't." She said it slowly, as if choosing each word carefully.

He mulled over that response, his mind going over every scenario possible.

"Do you think you know me, Emma?"

Another pause. But he didn't mind. Because…

"I'm learning a lot about what makes you you, It's why…"

She stopped there, but he knew what she would have said.

"Then can't you give me the same benefit of the doubt?" The weight that had left earlier had come back, only to leave once again. It was a slow and painful process, but it came with progress.

"It's getting late."

She saw the chance to run, too.

"Do you want to hang up the phone?" If he'd pushed too hard… He didn't think he was pushing too hard. Not when there was a need to get a lot farther than he'd tried up to this point. "If you want to get to bed now…" He knew about the cute flannel pajamas, but he pictured something far more revealing in that second.

"One thing," she finally began. "Pick one thing that you want to know about me. I'll share it with you as best as possible. And then…"

"Then you'll go," he finished for her.

The smile was back. Every time she opened herself up just a little bit wider, it felt like a strike in the winner's column.

"So," she sighed again. "Make it a good one."

Emma. Open. The feeling it gave was like no other.

"Okay, I'll make it a good one."

* * *

><p>Killian glanced at the ringing phone beside him and saw that it was Liam. His lips pursed as he looked back at the sketchpad balancing on his knee.<p>

He was getting better at capturing her. It had taken time. Just like everything else about her, so it had been befitting.

It was with a scowl that he reached for the phone that laid on the couch.

"Hello."

"Killian. Oh, God. What took you so long to answer?"

Liam sounded frantic. Which was unlike him. There was a nervousness in his tone that was never there.

"What happened?" The sketchpad was dropped to the table before him as he sat straight up.

"She said it's time, Killian." A bit cryptic. "We're about to leave for the hospital."

_Shit. The bump?_

"Now? Are you serious?" He felt his eyes growing wide at the prospect. "Ruby isn't due for another three weeks."

"Yeah, I know." There was a nervous laugh that escaped from him. "Three more weeks. But… Damn, Killian! This happens every day, right? Women give birth to babies _every day. _So it's okay, right?"

"Yeah, Liam," Killian agreed with him. "Every day. She's okay, right? No complications just yet?"

"No, no. It's just…" He heard the fear in his voice. "I think I'm freaking out."

It was time. And that was amazing.

"It's okay," he told Liam slowly. "Babies may be born every day, but this is _your first. _It's normal. It's okay." God! The bump.

"Killian, I think I'm freaking out right now."

It was amazing to hear his big brother like this.

"Where's Ruby?" He smiled to himself. "I don't hear any screaming."

"Oh, she would murder you with just a look for that one." He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I'm getting everything out to the car and then I'm going to go back in and get her. Killian?"

"Yeah?"

"You have to get to the hospital," he told him. "You have to meet us there. I'm freaking out over here. Please meet us at the hospital."

Killian stood up immediately at his brother's request.

"Of course I'll be there. I might even beet the two of you there."

"Good." There was another sigh of relief. "Good. I… have to get her to the hospital."

"I'll see you there," he assured him.

"Good. Killian?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, Killian."

It wasn't that he didn't say it to him often. It was something different about it this time.

"I love you, too, Liam. I'll see you soon."

He hung up the phone then. Standing in the middle of his living room, he took a moment to just process the whole situation.

The bump was coming. The bump wouldn't be a bump anymore. It was a baby. Instead, their threesome was about to become a foursome. And that… was amazing!

Liam's little family was growing. It was Liam who was passing on the family name to a new generation. Because that was where he was in his life.

Emma.

She came to his mind so suddenly and so unexpectedly.

Liam's family was a part of him, but it was his own. It would be really nice if…

Killian shook his head. He was wasting time when his brother needed him. It took all of two minutes to grab everything that he was going to need to take with him. Moving quickly around the apartment, it was thoughts of new life entering not only the world, but his world, that had him smiling.

He grabbed the door, yanking it open and leaving out. The only sign of nervousness came in way of his hands as he locked the door behind him.

He didn't make it far from that spot. Turning around, he caught a glimpse of that door from across the hall.

He still hadn't seen her. Their conversations had come only via phone calls and text messages. She would have needed a break after that phone call. He had pushed. But she hadn't caved. And that was something.

"_It wasn't Henry's father. My last relationship was with a man named Walsh. It didn't end well. Not really." _

Her words had been soft and delicate. She said she was broken, but she didn't want to show it. She tried not to show it.

Killian knew that she was home. She was on the other side of that wall…

It was a split-second decision that brought him to that side of the hall. It had been a split-second decision to knock loudly on her door. If he would have taken the time to think about it, then he would have told himself she wasn't ready.

They still hadn't seen each other. In more than a week, he hadn't set eyes on her. They had shared so much. He had pushed so hard. And he wanted to see her.

Waiting for someone to open the door, he knew it would have been just as easy to call her on the way to the hospital. He could have texted her all the news from the hospital. But it hadn't been what he needed.

The door was slow to open, making him believe it would Emma and not Henry who would be greeting him.

He saw her hand first, gripping the door as she pulled it open. And then it was all of her. From the top of her blonde head to the bottom of her bared toes. And it was a sight to behold of the woman who he was growing attached to.

There was a wariness in her eyes as she gripped that door. A look of wonderment for him as she looked him over.

"Killian?" The soft greeting was given questioningly.

He could have only imagined the way that he looked to her. Bright eyes and silly grin. All at her door.

"Ruby's in labor," he finally told her, smiling like an idiot for so many reasons.

Her head quirked to the side as she continued to watch him. The door opened wider, and there was finally a smile, a soft smile, on her face.

"Congratulations!" she told him, shaking her head. "You must be excited."

"Thanks. I'm headed for the hospital right now."

"Isn't it… early?" she asked, her eyes squinting this time.

"Yeah, it is." He grinned, because she knew. Knew parts of him as his life. "It's like three weeks early. That's why it's such a shock."

Emma nodded, her lip captured with her teeth. "Okay then." Another genuine smile as she leaned against the door. "Congratulations. Again. Killian."

For a moment, it was enough to just stand there and look at her. To bask in the simple beauty of Emma Swan when she was at home in her own environment.

Blonde hair flowing over her back and down her shoulders. The fitted-sweater hugging her curves so perfectly. The way she stood there, barefooted, for most of the world to not know. But he was seeing it. He was seeing another side of her that she kept only for herself.

"I'm going to call you, Emma," Killian told her quickly, his eyes meeting hers again. She was standing in front of him after more than a week of not seeing her, and after conversations that had made him… "I'm going to call you and let you know how things are going."

He sees the softening in her eyes and in her stance.

And for a moment, it's not about Ruby and the bump. It's not about getting to the hospital as soon as possible so he is there for Liam. Just for a moment…

The attachment to this woman was amazing and unexpected. He hadn't expected to meet this woman and have her turn his thoughts and feelings on their side.

He hadn't seen her in _days. _It was become _she _felt that she_ couldn't _see him_. _That she was content on keeping their relationship on different levels at different times as she had saw fit. But…

It was an attachment that was more than physical. It was a mental and emotional connection that he had not expected when he first saw her from across the hall months ago.

"I can't wait… to find out," Emma said. Her eyes fell on different parts of him before she'd finally looked back up at him.

Did she feel it, too? Or was he in this all alone? He didn't think he was in this all alone.

But he didn't know if it was as strong as his feelings were for her. Because, looking at her, it all began to make sense.

The feelings were real, he couldn't deny that. He couldn't deny that he was standing there and wanting her. But it wasn't like in the dream. In wasn't only the physical that he was pining away for while standing in front of her. It was the whole package. He wanted the physical, the mental, and the emotional. He wanted all of her…

It was the miracle of what was happening in his family at that moment.

It was Emma Swan, standing in front of him. She was a reminder of everything: everything that he didn't have, everything that he did have, and everything he could have.

Did she see that?

Killian was holding an inner debate with himself as he watched her. Did he share? Because he wanted her to know what she was doing to him.

"You'll be my first call," he finally told her, taking a step back away from the door.

Emma's eyes fell to the floor as she nodded.

"Exciting." She was quick to look back up at him then, her green gaze falling on his.

Killian nodded, his lips pursed. That was it, He'd kept her long enough…

"Okay." He took another step back, leaving her standing there and watching him.

It wasn't only because of the way her eyes fell on his. It was also because leaving her like this had lost in that debate in his head.

"Emma." The two steps that he'd taken to separate them was matched in the one step back to her.

It could have been a mistake. He prayed that it wasn't a mistake.

Killian's caught her face in between his hands, his mouth seeking hers all at the same time.

He kissed her. His mouth opening on hers and his body press tightly against his. It was sweet. Her mouth was as sweet as he had remembered it being.

"Killian." It came out as a low and quiet moan. One that drove him instantly wild. But it was the way her arms slipped behind his neck. It was the way that she remembered the exact spot that had almost done him in that first time.

Slow. The kiss was slow. Open mouths and a dip of that sweet tongue that had needed little coaxing.

His hands gripped at her waist, pulling her even closer to his body. A body that was so in-tuned to every nuance of the one writhing against it.

There had been no hesitation. There hadn't been a second that she hadn't kissed him back.

"Emma."

His lips smoothed over to her cheek, still holding her close. He listened to her shallows breathing that was so close to his ear.

He almost hadn't come over her. They'd almost not had this moment…

Emma moved then just slightly. He opened his eyes in time to see hers flutter open.

"Um…"

Killian let her go, letting his arms fall down to his sides as he took a step back.

He watched as her bottom lip was sucked into her mouth. There wasn't a smile, but there was something in her eyes.

"Emma."

"It's baby time," she whispered. This time, there was a smile on her face. It was tiny but it was there. "You have to go. I know."

He didn't want to go. Not after…

"I'll call you."

It had to have meant something. She wouldn't have kissed him back if it hadn't meant something.

Emma nodded. "Okay."

His hand reached out towards her, his fingertips barely hitting hers.

Her fingers gripped at his, holding firm for all of a second. A whole second.

"Bye, Killian."

He nodded again, feeling silly at not wanting to go.

"Goodbye, Emma." And this time, he turned. He walked slowly away from her.

He heard the close of her door, followed by the turn of the lock. She was back in, safe and sound.

_His name. A returned kiss. A grasp of his hand. All from Emma._

Those were the only reasons why he was able to walk out onto that porch. Because they had all meant something.


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: I usually don't outline my fics, but I took a couple of days and wrote out a fair amount of where this story is going to go. (And I'm excited!) I have a lot of school projects and work to do this next month and a half, which was one reason I wanted to plot out the story. **

**This chapter is definitely a baby bit compared to prior chapters. I tried to see if there was anything that I could add to it to flesh it out, but... I couldn't think of anything. Not for this part. **

**There are some exciting things coming up. Thanks for reading. Thanks for the favorites and follows and comments. This is a personal story, and it means a lot to me that you guys are supporting it!**

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday 9:17a.m.<strong>

_Another false alarm. Can you believe it?_

_**I can believe it.**_

_Two trips to the hospital and with no baby in sight. It's driving me crazy. You should see Liam._

_**It's driving YOU crazy? You're not the one who keeps having false labor pains. You should be concerned with Ruby. **_

_**It's not even her due date, Killian.**_

_Leave it to you to be the sensible one. _

_It's driving Ruby crazy, I know._

_**Oh, look who can be all sensitive towards another person!**_

_You're right. Again. _

_Although isn't it much more fun to explore someone else's sensitive sides rather than just being sensitive?_

_._

Emma wanted to hide the smile, to keep it all to herself. Killian wasn't there to see it, she knew, but she felt as if her finding slight humor in him shouldn't be detected in any way.

"Mom?"

The phone slipped from her fingers to the kitchen table in front of her. It wasn't like she had anything to feel guilty about. He'd surprised her. That was all.

Turning her eyes up at him, she watched as Henry walked over to the table himself. The bowl of cereal that had been in his hands was placed on the table across from her. But it was the way he was watching her. The curiosity in his eyes that made her nervous.

"Yeah?"

There was a slow smile that crossed his face. Henry shook his head as he took his seat across from her.

"You didn't even hear me, did you?"

It made Emma's eyes go on a search across the span of the room. She had noticed when he had come into the kitchen. She had noticed how he'd come in and fixed the bowl of cereal. But… if there had been something that he'd said that was directed at her…

She'd missed that.

"I'm sorry… Henry." Emma shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She should be focused on… Well, the actual point was that maybe she shouldn't be focused on…

"Who are you texting, Mom?"

The curious question came as he innocently brought a generous spoon of cereal to his mouth. Those eyes though…

For a moment, just a short moment, Emma thought about not answering her son's question truthfully. Just for a moment.

"Was that what you'd asked me earlier?" Deflection sounded a lot better than a lie.

The smile on Henry's face was distinguishable even through the chewing of the cereal.

"No," he told her slowly. "I was asking you about the arcade. Some of my friends wanted to know if I could go with them this afternoon."

Oh.

"Oh," Emma said softly. "I think that'll be okay. Sure."

Henry held his spoon halfway from the bowl and his mouth, his eyes mischievously on her.

There was a part of her that didn't even want to ask.

"So… who are you texting, Mom?"

He seemed to not have a problem with asking…

Emma picked up the mug of coffee that was off to the side of her. She threw a glance at the phone that had, instead, been in front of her.

"Um... that was Killian."

"Killian?"

The coffee mug was lifted to her lips and she took a quick sip, ignoring the smile her son had just for her.

"He was telling me that Ruby had another false labor," she explained. Because that was true.

The conversation had never left that of Ruby and the baby watch. It hadn't gotten to the way of anything personal. Well…

He hadn't mentioned that the last time that baby Jones may have been on his or her way that he had kissed her. Neither did they mention that she had eagerly returned that knee-weakening kiss with as much passion as he had.

His arms around her. Her arms around him. His scent leaving her all the more weak. The way not only his lips slid across her cheek, but the roughness of his cheek as well. No. They hadn't mentioned any of that.

This wasn't like her. She didn't…

Even after all of this time, she shouldn't have gotten this close to him. Not to the point to where she'd kissed him and then let him kiss her.

It had happened twice. And, in fact, it had happened in each instance that they had been around each other. So what did that say about her? What did that mean?

Emma felt the tug of her eyebrows coming together, the frown creasing there. The sigh was just as involuntary.

"Is that all, Mom?"

She turned her focus back on Henry at his question. The smile was gone, and it had been replaced with a frown of his own.

"What?"

Henry was slow to push the bowl of cereal away from him. His entire focus was now on her as he watched her with a closeness that was almost too much.

What was he trying to see? What was he trying to decipher by just looking at her?

"What are you doing, Henry?" she asked, bringing the mug up once again to her lips. This time she didn't take a sip. There was a bit of unease settling in the bottom of her stomach by both the way her son looked at her and the complications from this growing… thing…

"I knew that he liked you." Henry was slow to shrug. "I… just didn't know. I didn't know if you were going to like him back."

The sickness was either replaced or just overpowered by the rapid beating of her heart.

"Henry…"

"Do you like Killian?" he asked. He'd finally just came out and asked the question that she wasn't ready to hear her son ask her. And it would come with an answer that she wasn't quite ready to give.

Why? When she had admitted it to not only herself, but the man himself?

"Henry?" The mug was set back down on the table in front of her.

The frown on his face deepened. As if he was preparing himself for any answer she could have possibly given.

Emma paused, her mind coming up with too many thoughts.

It was always the two of them. For most of his life, it was mom and son. And, to be a thirteen year old boy, Henry knew his mom as well as any son could know his mom. Sometimes that meant knowing bits and pieces of a life that wasn't always happy. Sometimes that meant understanding that life could be somewhat solitary and lonely for her.

He liked Killian. Emma knew that. And…

It was becoming a jumble and a mess in her head.

"Yeah, Mom?"

She had taken too long to answer. He had begun to press.

Another sweep of her son's face. Another moment to process everything. And then…

"I… like Killian." Emma felt the instant tilt of her head as she watched _him_ process that information.

It was with a twitch of his lips and a widening of his eyes. It was brief, because he looked back down into his bowl. The spoon was grabbed, swirling it around in the cereal.

Baited breath…

"I thought you did." Henry was quick to look up again. "That's _good, _Mom."

That was one way to look at it…

She saw the text come in from the corner of her eye. There was a little apprehension with knowing that Henry knew. He knew that not only did she talk to Killian, but she also actually liked him. And that…

"Don't make a big deal out of it," she muttered, her hand sliding over to grab the phone.

"Ok, Mom."

It was the huff that accompanied those words that made her look up. An all-knowing look that couldn't be so all-knowing. Not really.

"If you say so."

His words left her heart beating faster than it should have been. She wanted to blame the rapidness of her heart on that and _not _at Killian's simple question.

_Emma?_

Although she didn't know what was going to come next.

"It's kind of awesome though."

Her eyes flew up to Henry, the surprise of his confession showing on her face.

Henry stood up, his smile growing at the same time he grabbed at the bowl.

"I know: don't get too excited," he said with a roll of his eyes. And, with another spoonful on cereal going to his mouth, he moved back away from the table.

Did it make her want to run? Emma thought about that while watching his back. If he wouldn't have said the words first, then she would have. And, no, it didn't make her want to run. Not just yet…

Her eyes fell back on the phone.

.

_**Henry asked about you.**_

_**About us.**_

_What did you tell your son about me? About us?_

_**I told him that you like me. He said he already knew that.**_

_I always knew the lad was smart._

_Did he say that for real?_

_**No.**_

_Look at you getting my hopes and dreams up._

_**I told him that I liked you.**_

_Really?_

_**Yes.**_

_I needed to ask you something, Emma._

_**What?**_

_I want to take you out. I want to see you beyond the confines of the apartment house. Will you go on a date with me?_

It was too early in the morning for the emotional rollercoaster that she was being put on. Would no one else agree to that fact? First Killian. Then Henry. And then Killian had to come back and add to it.

.

_I want to see you, Emma. _

_**Can I think about it?**_

_So you're going to?_

_I'm taking into consideration that you didn't automatically turn me down. I think it's a great start._

_I'll talk to you later, Emma._

_**Okay.**_

* * *

><p>Sometimes management and designers clashed. And who was it exactly that got stuck in the middle of those arguments?<p>

What time was it?

Each one of Emma's steps were quick and taken with a purpose. She slid her hand into her pocket to fish out her phone. At the feel of it in the palm of her hand brought with it the flash of Killian. A possible text message that she might have missed due to a busy work day had crossed her mind. And that wasn't at all what should have been there.

Shaking her head, she pushed the thought away. Pushed it way down deep because it served no purpose whatsoever.

What time was it?

Emma pulled the phone out of her pocket just as she reached the back office. And the message stopped her dead in her tracks.

It wasn't the words. Not exactly…

.

_Good luck on your meeting, love! I'm looking forward to hearing all about your success._

_._

The thought had pushed its way into her head, but she hadn't expected…

Why was he so attentive? Why did he seem to be one hundred percent genuine? Why couldn't she find the flaw that was going to make trusting in him and believing in him impossible? Because she knew her. She knew that running came easily and naturally. She wanted to _want _to run. He wasn't making it easy.

Emma had grabbed at her phone for a reason. And that reason was not Killian Jones. It didn't make those damn bluer than blue eyes stop from invading her mind. It didn't stop that cocky grin from showing up as clear as day.

Two seventeen.

It was two seventeen. And _that _was the point of taking out her phone. It meant that she had thirteen minutes before her meeting was to begin. And Belle…

The office door pulled open in front of her, with a hectic looking Belle stepping out.

"We have about ten minutes," she said in a rush. Pressing the form folder tightly to her chest, she offered her a smile.

"Well, we have thirteen minutes," Emma amended with a sigh.

"And absolutely no time to go over anything." The door behind her closed once she moved away from it.

"But we're fine." _ Good luck on your meeting, love! _"We have a clear and precise plan all laid out and ready to go."

Belle hugged the file even closer to her.

"You're right. So I won't dwell on the fact that some designers, who shall remain nameless, are inherently difficult to please."

_I'm looking forward to hearing all about your success._

"I think that's the best way to go about it," Emma murmured. She raised the phone again to look at the clock once more. "Okay, we're down to twelve minutes."

Belle moved then, a smile fixed pleasantly on her face.

"If you're ready then so am I," she told her, her steps just as assured as they needed to be.

"It's really… awkwardly _nice_… when you have someone in your corner."

The stress of the future meeting was easy to make out in Belle. But she still gave a tilt of her head in wonderment at Emma's statement, her eyes searching her face.

Was she a pessimist? She probably wouldn't have went so far as to say that before. It was just the circumstances of her life that gave her a sullen outlook. But... sometimes… Lately…

Pessimist didn't seem to fit. Anymore. And… sometimes… maybe she should have stayed a pessimist. Because…

"We're running out of time." Belle was already on the move when Emma finally decided to catch up with her. "Let's go."

_Good luck on your meeting, love! I'm looking forward to hearing all about your success._

There steps, in unison, didn't seem to distract Belle as much as it did Emma. She was looking at her. She was watching her with a nosiness that she was sure that Killian would be able to appreciate.

Killian? Damn!

"It's okay. Don't worry."

Belle's frown was sudden. "What?"

"We'll knock this out," Emma told her firmly. "No need to worry."

"Oh. Yes. I'm sure we will." A slow smile reached her face. "What's gotten into you, Emma?"

The question made her give her a double-take.

"What do you mean?"

Belle was slow to shake her head. "I… don't know. There's something different about you. I can't put my finger on it though."

Emma's quick steps stayed in sync with Belle's only by the mere strength of refusing to show and outward change.

"I don't know what you mean."

A shoulder went up in a shrug as Belle turned her attention to the path in front of her.

"Whatever it is…" There was a brief moment she looked back to smile. "Keep it up. I think it works for you."

She refused to equate those words to anything in her personal life.

Nope. Not even one…

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday 8:22p.m<strong>

_**I've been thinking.**_

_I've been thinking, too._

_Although I'm most certain that your thoughts are the safer of the two. Do share._

_**Should I completely ignore that to be on the safe side?**_

_Not necessarily._

_**I've been thinking.**_

_Take 2 I presume? What's been on your mind, Emma?_

_**Your question.**_

_**Your request.**_

_I should call you._

_Should I call you?_

_If you plan on breaking my heart and leaving it in two, well that's better over text. It'll be easier to play it off._

_**Call me.**_

_**I'd like to hear your voice.**_

_**.**_

She answered the phone on its first ring. Nerves be damned…

"Hello." It was a slow and steady beat, her heart. Strong nevertheless.

"Hello, Emma." He had a deep and rich timbre. It was thicker. But it was a noticeable thickness. An audible hint to what he was thinking.

"How was your day?" she asked him softly.

Two words. And he already had her waiting on baited breath.

"I had a very nice and productive day," he answered smoothly. "Don't ask me about our state treasurer's misdeeds when it comes to mishandling of funds though. It's not a pretty story."

"Okay, I won't." The absurdity of the ease was overwhelming sometimes…

"How was your day?"

It made her smile. He made her smile.

"Maybe a little less productive, but a lot of ironing out of issues," she told him. "Just don't ask me about the ins and outs of working for a designer who is nervous about giving creative license to those who are not so easily controlled."

"Okay, I won't." There was a smile in his voice. Warm. Genuine. "I'll ask you something else instead."

She imagined the stroke of his thumb over his chin…

"Yes?"

There was a pause. So short. But didn't he know what that was doing to her heart?

She heard his chuckle. "You're not… teasing me, are you, Emma?"

"Teasing you?" She shook her head to herself. "I'm not teasing you."

Another pause. Another moment where he had been silent. Then…

"Emma?" It was quiet. Pensive.

"Yes?" Who knew?

"I would love the chance to get to know you outside of these walls." Strong. Firm. Truthful. Killian. Every single one of those words modified that statement. "I would love the chance to take you out. Emma. Would you do me the honor of going out on a date with me?"

Why was it even more than she'd ever expected?

She took in a deep breath, and she savored those words for just a moment longer.

"Yes." It was little more than a whisper. "I would… really like that."

"Emma Swan…" It came out on a ragged breath, deep and guttural. "What do you do to me, Emma Swan?"

She didn't have an answer to that. She didn't know the answer to that. But there was a part of her that wondered if it was the same thing that he did to her.


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: It's date night! I think that's the only reason this chapter got written so quickly!**

* * *

><p>She'd agreed to a Friday night date. Although she did warn him that sometimes work could run late.<p>

He'd told her that he would make sure that no matter what happened, they would be together outside that apartment. He would make it work.

"I don't know if dinner is romantic enough." Killian leaned back against the wall of the freshly painted nursery.

He'd been distracted. He was sure that Liam had noticed, his task of helping being slightly ignored. Liam didn't make a big deal about it. The crib was all but put up now.

"Are you striving for romance, little brother?" Liam looked up at him from his seat on the floor. He dropped the small wrench down next to him and drew his knees up to his chest.

"I'm striving…" Killian's mind wandered at that point. There were so many avenues that he could have taken. And just thinking about them… "I'm striving… to make a great first impression."

Liam was slow to nod his head. Laying his arms over his knees, he gave Killian a curious look.

"This is Emma," he reminded him quietly. "This is the woman who has found it a lot easier to get to know you over a phone, no matter the context of the phone, instead of getting to know you in person. Even though she lives across the hall from you."

His comments made Killian squint his eyes on his brother.

"Yeah. And?"

"This is the woman who has something in her past that makes her mistrustful of people in general," Liam continued.

"So what exactly are you trying to get at?" Killian asked, pushing his back away from the wall.

It wasn't that he had shared personal details of her with him. There were just some very basic and intuitive things about Emma Swan that was easily seen. Or maybe easily stereotyped as. Because it was true that something in her past had made her mistrustful of people. But he knew it went beyond that. It wasn't only the utter disappointment people had been in her life. There was some internal quality that Liam didn't know about that had added to the overall picture.

And their unique relationship had stemmed from that, Killian was sure. Emma needed her guard to be up constantly. It was only with luck that he had happened on her comfort zone. That he had stumbled upon a way to get to know her that took a far less guarded tactic.

"What I'm trying to get at," Liam said quietly, looking up at Killian, "is that maybe you need to keep in mind what she will be ready for. And what she will not be ready for."

It gave Killian pause. What was Emma ready for? What did she want from him? What was she willing to offer him?

"Is she ready for you to try to dazzle her with some five-star restaurant down on Shawmut Avenue? Do you plan on wining and dining her in hopes of adding her to the list of women who are eager and waiting on the next call from you?"

It was more than a squint of his eyes. It was more than an anger building up inside of him from the words Liam had used. It was more than the feeling of protectiveness for Emma and who she was. It was a lot more.

"It's not like that with Emma," Killian told him slowly, his eyes falling over his brother with a look of… hurt. "I thought you understood that."

Liam was watching him. Watching him closely with an indistinguishable smile on his face.

"I thought so," he told him quietly. "And I think you just proved it." Liam shook his head, his eyes widening on him. "Killian? Are you…"

He knew what he was going to ask him. He knew why he had paused and why he hadn't actually said the words.

Liam, stopping mid-thought, began to stand up from the floor. Becoming on eye-level, brother to brother, there was a moment to silently draw an understanding. Man to man.

"Killian?" As if an affirmation was all he needed. As if quiet confirmation from one to the other was all he needed.

"It's different with Emma," Killian finally offered.

There wasn't a fear in him when it came to his feelings. He'd just never had someone who had made him feel so strongly.

"It's always been different with Emma. She's not like the others."

That earned him a smile. And he knew exactly why. It was the term that he'd used. The term that both Liam and Ruby liked to refer to the women he dated.

"She's definitely not like the other ones," Liam agreed. His hand found Killian's shoulder with a firm clasp. "It's good that you noticed that."

"Well, it would be hard not to."

Killian watched as Liam turned around back to the crib. He watched as his hands found the railing and the way he held on. He watched at his gaze fell on the mattress in front of him.

"The one." Liam had muttered it over the crib.

_The one. _A dawning came over him.

"That was a long-running joke," Killian reminded him with a slow shake of his head.

Liam turned back around to look at him. There was a glimmer of a smile on his lips.

"It _was_, wasn't it?"

* * *

><p>He knocked at her door softly this time. It wasn't because there wasn't an excitement or nervousness. It was just the polite way to be. And Killian had planned to be… gentlemanly on their first date.<p>

She opened the door only seconds later. And…

She appeared before him in a white turtleneck that hung against curves so lusciously. The black leather leggings clung to legs and hips that he had not had the pleasure of holding on enough to. She was a few inches taller in those black ankle boots. She was… a vision.

"Won't we be the striking pair?" Killian murmured, continuing to take in the appreciative glance of a woman who was well put together.

Emma's eyes seemed to have a bit of a smolder.

"I don't know if that was a compliment to me, or more for yourself," she said lightly. "Good evening, Killian."

His teeth sunk into the bottom of his lip, a shake of his head following.

"Good evening, Emma."

Her smile grew, and he enjoyed the sparkle in her eye. He hadn't known what to expect when he came over. Would she be timid? Closed off? Nervous to the point of being quiet? The fact that she'd already offered smiles and quick wit only assured him of the night they would have.

"Come in?" Emma asked. "I just have to grab my coat and purse."

Killian followed her into the apartment, his eyes drawing on those legs as she walked away. She was enough woman to make him shake his head in wonderment of her beauty.

He watched as the length of her arm slid out toward her things on the couch. He watched as she fit herself into the camel coat that reached mid-thigh, not hiding too much of the leather-clad legs. He watched as she flipped the blonde her from underneath the coat so that it fell in light waves over her shoulders and her back.

Damn.

He knew that he was the one to suggest that they got to know each other away from the apartment house, but by God, there were three suitable beds between them that he would have loved to get to know her in.

Emma threw him a look over her shoulder, taking a moment to do some watching herself.

It made Killian grin. An eyebrow shot up and he laid his hand out towards her.

"You look amazingly beautiful tonight, Emma," he told her. "My apologies if you ever catch me leering."

She didn't say anything to that. Instead, she had leaned back over the couch to scoop up the purse laying there.

Killian didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to do the gentlemanly thing and not touch her. Not tonight. Not when she had agreed to go out on a date with him. Not when the entire point was about them.

"Ah…"

Emma turned back around to look at him.

"Where's Henry?" Killian asked. "I was expecting to give him the speech on not worrying about his mom and that I would have her returned home safely at a decent hour."

Emma's steps were slow as they brought them back to him.

"Henry is… spending the night at his friend's house," she answered.

It only made the inappropriate thoughts return. He'd never been in her bedroom…

"Does that mean I don't have to live up to that decent hour part?" he asked teasingly, the smile on his face growing.

Her eyes squinted on him. "I don't think that's what that means."

"Ah, well." Killian lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Just thought I'd make sure."

She had been so close that her sweet scent was invading his senses. It was with care and caution that he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Emma." It was a quiet murmur as he looked at her.

Her hands had come up to delicately rest on his arms. She took at moment before her eyes made the path from over his shoulder, to his chest, and finally his face. It had taken a moment before her eyes settled on his.

It had taken that long for it to really sink in for him.

Emma. Emma Swan. The closed-off neighbor who had let him in so gradually that it could have been painful. But it hadn't been painful. It had been a three-month journey that had brought them right here.

"What?" The quiet question came with the tightening grip of her hands on his arms.

"I'm really happy that you agreed to let me get to know you better," Killian finally answered. "And that you're willing to get to know me, too. I know… that…" He paused, stopping himself. "I will forever be grateful for the opportunity."

"Yeah, well…" Emma sighed, her eyes lifted and catching something off to the side of him.

It made him smile. Because this was still Emma. And Emma was bits and pieces of mystery and familiarity. In his arms, he had Emma Swan.

"I'm ready to go, if you are," she whispered.

"Of course."

Killian let his arm slide away from her back, moving away…

Emma's hands tightened their grip on his arms, not letting him move too far away.

"Just…" She sighed, those hands moving to smooth over his shoulders and around his neck.

He hadn't expected it.

Emma's hands pulled him closer, her lips reaching for his.

Killian's hand gripped at her waist, pulling her against him. Her kiss was soft and sweet. A soft peck of lips to lips that held for a second. Another. Then another. Until his mouth opened on hers, deepening the kiss because there was a need.

She pulled away first. The loss of her mouth and all her warmth was a bit disconcerting.

"I'm ready," she whispered, stepping around him.

Damn.

Her back was to him. And maybe that was a good thing. Because…

Emma Swan. She wasn't like the others. He'd know that for as long as he'd known her. But he may have just realized that that was the best thing in the world.

* * *

><p>"I don't know what I expected." Emma turned her attention on him, a small smile gracing her lips. "Maybe a candlelight dinner in one of the most trendy and posh restaurants, while you tried to impress me."<p>

An eyebrow shot up towards her. "Is that what you expected?"

Emma's smile grew as she gave him a nod.

"Damn! Liam made it seem as if that would be one of the worst moves I could have made," Killian told her. "Would you have rather gone the posh route?"

The smile turned into a laugh. Emma was laughing.

"No," she said slowly. "This is fun. Live music with a little dinner is great. I've never been here before." Her eyes scanned the whole of the room.

"Never?"

Sam's wasn't the five-star restaurant that Liam had warned him against, but it was still a popular dinner spot that was constantly busy. It was the added feature of the live music that had clenched the deal for him. It wasn't about romanticizing her on that first date. It was more about putting them both in an atmosphere that was comfortable. And as the band played

"The view of the harbor is amazing," Emma said, her gaze falling on that view then.

Killian had an amazing view as well…

Creamy white neck. He hadn't had the opportunity to kiss her right there. He hadn't had the opportunity to bury his face right there and take in her scent. That was something that he would have to attend to sooner rather than later.

Winter was quickly approaching. It had limited his need for creativity on short notice when it came to planning their date. Liam's words of advice, or caution, had given him pause.

He wasn't about impressing her. It was having a place to get to know her outside of home. It was about showing her a part of him that she hadn't known. It was about her feeling comfortable enough to be herself, with him, with as little guard as possible. It was supposed to be about them. And he felt like she was giving herself.

Killian liked the fact that she had looked passed the sautéed kale Caesar and the quinoa salads. He liked the fact that she hadn't hesitated in ordering the grilled flank steak and the glass of red wine. He liked the way that she had asked if he was going to join her in a glass. He liked the way she lifted a shoulder in way of a shrug when he said he preferred a nice glass of rum to go with his roasted striped bass. He liked… everything about her.

"You… asked Liam… about me?" Emma turned back to look at him then.

Green eyes. Why was there a particular detail about that green, a fleck of gold maybe, that he hadn't seen before? A speck that had thrown off any and every drawing that he'd ever done of her. Hm…

"You two are really close." Emma picked up her glass of wine, bringing it to her lips and taking a sip. But those eyes. They stayed on him.

"We're really close," Killian agreed with her.

She sat the glass back down with a smile on her face. It was followed by just a slight nod of her head.

Oh. Maybe he was supposed to elaborate…

"We moved here when I was eighteen, as I told you before," Killian continued. "It was after our mother died."

There was an instant solemn look on her face at that bit of news.

"It's been just the two of us since that day." Killian smiled at that thought. "Until Liam met Ruby. She became family instantly. You see, maybe you wouldn't think so because… well… how hard is it for two people to be close?" He shrugged at that. "But family is… everything to us. The fact that we had dwindled down to only two for a while didn't change that. And now it's almost doubled that."

Emma stayed quiet, but it was the way her gaze crossed over him that made him wonder what she was thinking.

"I can really see that," she finally said softly. "Then… why…"

"Are you going to ask me why I haven't settled down and gotten married if family means so much to me?" Killian cut in curiously.

There was a stiffness that in her neck and back that made her posture become upright.

"The question of your bachelorhood has crossed my mind," she admitted. Emma shook her head. "You're… not like me." She had a way of putting herself down that he didn't know if he would ever understand. "You're a successful man with an amazing personality and with a charm that should have any woman swooning."

"Emma Swan, the compliments coming out of you are going to make me jump over this table just so that I can grab you up in my arms," he muttered through a smile. And he was close to doing just that. His hands grabbed at the sides of the table, ready to spring at just the right moment.

She had the nerve to blush. A sweet red coloring overcoming her cheeks in a way that only made him want her all the more.

"That sounds like a shot at trying to get out of answering," she said, ignoring the blush as best as possible. "I've gotten to know different facets of you, Killian. When added up, you shouldn't be single. Unless…"

She was leaving it up to him to finish her thought. But what was it? That he must be some philanderer who didn't know how to settle down? That there was a throng of women who came in and out of his bed? That she was one of a dozen who he spent his free hours with trying to get to know and win over.

Killian never saw an issue with how he lived his life. He never saw the issue with enjoying the perks that came with the title of bachelor. But would Emma see it differently?

For the first time that night, he felt a nervousness creeping through him. He felt that the wrong response would drive her back away from him.

"You want to know about the women that I date?"

He watched as she turned her attention back to her plate in front of her. He watched as she picked up the fork and lightly swirled it around the pieces of potato.

"I haven't been in a relationship in… Emma, I don't know," Killian said, his eyebrows furrowing together at trying to put a time on it. "I think I have always been the consummate bachelor."

He waited. Waited until he knew he had her undivided attention by looking at him once again.

"There are women that I've been known to spend time with," he finally continued, looking right into those green eyes. "But someone special? I haven't had anyone special in my life in years. To be honest with you, Emma, although family is everything to me, I am not one to force myself into a situation just to feed that need."

Her nod was quick. Her smile, as small as it was, was fake.

"I was curious because you knew my own dating stance."

It only dawned on him then. Because…

It had been a while since the last time he'd been with anyone. Weeks? Had it been a month since…

It was… _Had _it been? Yes. Morgan. In Springfield. The same night that he spent over a half hour on the phone with Emma. The first night she had let him in just a little bit more. The same night he had imagined her skin against his and what her moan would sound like in his ear.

Not since that night…

Funny, that he'd been unaware of the fact that he'd been faithful to the thought of having her one day.

"Remember how I told you that I liked you, Emma?"

That smile on her face remained false, but curious.

"I meant it," he told her. "I like you a lot. I like getting the chance to know you. I like that my days are filled by pestering you with things that no one else would care to know about my days. I like that my nights are filled with your voice in my ear."

The blush was back, tinges of pinks and red in her neck and cheeks.

"I like that you are not afraid to be tough and you are not afraid to speak your mind," Killian continued quietly. "I like that, even if things scare you, you tackle them head on."

That earned him pursing of her lips and those eyes narrowing on him.

"And," Killian smiled, "I must admit that I like the way your fingers massage this particular spot at the nape of my neck when we kiss. It's an absolute turn-on that drives me quite mad whenever you do it."

The smile on her face twitched a bit, as if she was holding in as much of it as possible.

"Are you trying to soften my resolve towards you, Killian?" she asked softly, her eyes falling on his.

"I figured that I'd already accomplished that," he said smoothly. He gave her a quick wink of his eye before smiling.

Emma stared across the table at him, silently watching for a moment that lasted for a long moment.

What was she thinking? She could be an enigma sometimes. A puzzle he was dying to figure out.

"Remember how I told you that I liked you, Killian?"

He hadn't expected her to come back with the same question.

"Oh, yes, love," he assured her. "Are you going to do me the pleasure of filling my head and my heart with some of those things right now?"

"Ah… no." Emma shook her head. "I just wanted to know if you remembered or not."

Killian couldn't hold in his smile at that.

"Oh, come on," he pressed. "Make me feel better about the fact that I was forced into admitting my previous dalliances while I was a bachelor."

Emma smiled back at him. "Okay," she said slowly. She leaned over the table, looking him over and taking him all in. "I like that… you are… an honest man." Her eyes, they met his, and were solemn as he'd ever seen them. "I like… that I can trust you."

If it wasn't Emma Swan, if it had been another woman, then those words wouldn't have met as much as they did. Emma Swan and trust? It blew his mind away.

"I'm going to…" Killian was already out of his seat before it left his mouth.

He saw the slight widening of her eyes as he moved to her side of the table and knelt down at her side.

His fingers grazed over the shell of her ear on the way to twist into her hair, pulling her down to him.

"Kiss you."

Emma's mouth was receptive to his immediately, kissing him back softly.

He could kiss her forever. Just like this. He could listen to her call his name sweetly over and over again.

He could be- those fingers slipped into that spot at his nape again- hers forever.

* * *

><p>She'd passed on the Prudential Skywalk Observatory. The view was amazing at night. Even with winter on its way, it was an amazing experience to see the whole city of Boston from seven hundred fifty feet in the sky.<p>

"I'm sure Henry would love it," she'd shared.

"It's a great place to get some truly beautiful aerial shots," Killian had agreed.

It was getting late. It was only getting later and later. And it had made him not want to end things any time soon.

He liked the way that she had leaned into him on their way out of the restaurant. He liked the way she had let him hold hand as they stepped outside. And he liked to think it wasn't from the two glasses of wine that she'd had with dinner. It had to be her and the way she had let herself trust and believe in him.

So when she had passed on continuing their date at the truly majestic skywalk, he'd had to think of something else to entertain her.

"Are you cold?"

"No." Emma tugged at the camel coat with her free hand, tugging it over her. "I'm fine."

"Then would you like to take a quick walk before we head back?"

Emma looked up at him, her eyes bright now.

"That's fine."

* * *

><p>"Henry's dad lives in Florida," Emma said, settling into her seat on the bench beside him. "He spends his summers with him every year."<p>

"That's where he was that first week when you moved in," Killian concluded.

Emma turned towards him and nodded.

"Yeah."

"You were married."

Her eyes slid away from him as she nodded again. "We were married. But we divorced when Henry was just four. That's been nine years now."

"Sore subject?" he asked softly, wanting her to look back at him.

Emma did look at him, but with a blankness to her face that might have answered his question for him.

"Our divorce was amicable," she said with yet another nod. "We grew apart is all. There was never… much… ill-will toward one another. He's Henry dad. And always has been a good dad to him. _We_ stopped being right for one another is what happened."

And what began the downward spiral…

Killian's hand squeezed at hers. "Have you ever thought… about… getting married again? Was that something that you wanted to try again?"

Marriage _had _to be down the pipeline for him. Eventually.

"I…" Her pause was telling. Of past hurt and self-doubt. "I don't think about it." She turned around so that she was facing him. "Odd topic for a first date, don't you think?" Her shoulder lifted a bit. "Do you want to get married, Killian?"

"Well, I can't leave it on Liam all by himself to make sure the Jones' line continues for a couple more generation," he answered with a light grin.

"Huh," she huffed.

"Huh." Killian moved against her, bringing his mouth to settle next to her ear. "What does that supposed to mean, Emma?"

Her tremble, it was _not _a figment of his imagination…

"Everything you've said before… It just makes me wonder what you're waiting on."

His hand tightened on hers, and his mouth stayed right there at her ear.

"Oh, that's an easy one, love," he whispered. "I've been waiting on the one."

* * *

><p>"So do I get to invite you in or do you get the honors?"<p>

Standing in the hallway with both doors on either side of them, Killian was opened to the idea of either apartment being fine with him.

Emma caught her lip between her teeth, keeping the smile at a minimum.

"Killian?"

"I can make a pot of coffee," he offered, stepping closer to her.

Her eyes were dancing on him, and that was a good sign. She hadn't once closed up on him. She had been open and had shared parts of herself that he hadn't been able to see before that night. But, then again, there were a lot more _parts _of her that were still hidden. Parts that had been only imagined in dreams.

Her arms looped around his neck. It was an open invitation to her mouth. Well, at least that's how he took it…

Killian placed a hand on her hip and pulled her into him.

It was Emma who had kissed him. Tilting her head just slightly, the heels she wore making it a lot simpler for her to find him lips, she kissed him softly.

For some reason, he had a feeling that this was supposed to be a goodnight kiss. That she was going to let him down gently and not come into his apartment and not invite him in to hers. But…

His other hand found the other side of her hip, turning her and fitting her perfectly against him. Stepping forward, he pushed her back, back, back, until she bumped against the wall of her apartment.

"Killian."

It wasn't a warning. It left her mouth as a sigh. And her arms unlinked from behind his neck, slipping back so that her hands fell over his shoulders.

Her coat was buttoned to keep out the chilly night air. But they were inside now.

Killian's hands moved up from her hips. His mouth never left hers. He never stopped kissing her as his hands went on a search for the buttons of her coat.

One… Two…

"Killian."

Three…

She was hot underneath there, between the coat and the sweater. He was sure that her skin was just as hot.

"Emma." It was like a prayer. His mouth fell from hers, sliding over her cheek as his hands moved under the sweater, touch bare skin that was silky. "We can go inside."

Her hands closed over his cheeks, smoothing down and then back up.

Damn, she hadn't touched enough of him yet…

Emma, turning his face back to hers, kissed him again. She pushed herself as much as she could off of the wall, pressing herself against him.

Damn. Not enough.

Killian pushed a hand between them, reaching for the buttons of his own coat. Too many clothes. Way too many barriers. Didn't she see that?

"Emma."

"I… can't."

Two words. Spoken against his mouth.

"I… can't… invite you in, Killian," she told him softly. Her head turned from him, creating a space between them.

"Well I can invite you in to my place."

Emma's smile turned into a laugh. A laugh that said he had misinterpreted her meaning of "can't."

"I can't, okay?" Her eyes were searching his face, wanting to find if he actually understood and was okay with that. "Inviting you in means making promises that I'm not ready for. Inviting you means more of this." She punctuated _this _with a run of her hand under his opened coat, and leaving a tingle to travel down the length of him. "And more of this would lead to… you know."

"Yeah." The muttered response was thick. And he tried, so very hard, to not be truly devastated by the fact that a terrific night was ending. "I understand."

Killian pulled away from her, releasing her from her trap between him and the wall.

"Are you okay with that?" Emma asked. She was still looking him over. Still trying to make up her own mind of what she could read from him.

Killian cleared his throat.

"I'm okay with that, Emma. I'm going to try to smile through it, okay?" And he smiled, albeit a small one, at her. "I have to be honest though."

"Yeah?" She was smiling. A genuine smile that seemed so light and airy. How in the hell?

"You've got me completely turned on at the moment," he told her with a bigger smile. "And being okay with your need is not the easiest thing I've been asked to do."

That earned him a laugh and bright eyes.

"But I understand," he promised her.

Emma's hand came up to touch his cheek. She watched with an intensity as it ran down to his neck.

"I like you, Killian," she whispered. "Everything tonight only proved it all the more." Her eyes fell on him. "I'm not used to this, okay? I'm not used to liking someone so much. And maybe I shouldn't. Because eventually…"

His hand closed over hers.

"I like you, too, Emma. I like you a lot." He shook his head. "So we're going to continue to get to know one another. We're going to go at whatever pace makes you feel the most comfortable. I'm not going anywhere. And you have nothing to worry about."

He saw the softening of her eyes again. The softening of her posture.

"We'll see."

It was with that that she turned away from him. Reaching inside her purse, she pulled out her key and opened the door.

Killian watched at the door opened into the apartment. He watched as she stepped away from him. And he watched as she turned back to him.

"Goodnight, Killian."

He moved to meet her in her doorway.

"Goodnight, Emma."

The goodnight kiss was a simple peck on the lips. And then he moved away from her.

Emma smiled again. She stepped back farther inside. And, with that, she closed the door behind herself.

And Killian was actually left alone in the hallway.

He couldn't decide if it was a surprising predicament to be found in, or one that he should have expected.

Damn.

He shook his head as he turned around to his apartment. His hands stuffed into his coat pocket, searching for his keys.

His right hand picked up the keys, but his left hand grabbed at the absent phone that had been put away.

The phone took precedence over making it inside. The notification of new text messages was there and multiple calls from Liam.

Killian didn't know when he'd seen so many missed calls in a row like that from Liam. Pressing his back to his door, his pulled up the messages.

The first one to come up, the last one that Liam had sent him…

_Shit._

He grinned down at the picture with pride. The baby was bundled up like all newborns. It was too early to tell who exactly he looked like. _He _looked like!

_When are you going to get your ass down here and meet your nephew?_

Ruby had the baby. It looked to be not even an hour ago.

He'd missed it, but…

Killian's glanced over at Emma's apartment door. Emma.

He moved then, heading back out towards the door. He had to get to the hospital. _Damn! _Two damn false alarms, and she'd had the baby when his back was turned. What kind of uncle did that make him?

Still…

He pulled up her number. She'd want to know. He had to let her know…

"Already?"

Killian smiled at that. He could have imagined having walking into his apartment and already calling her.

"No, not already. Emma, Ruby had the baby while we were out. It's a boy. I have a nephew!"

"Oh my God! Congratulations. For real this time."

"Thanks." He was running now. Running to the car. "I'm headed to the hospital now. I just wanted to let you know."

"Well it's a good thing I didn't let you in," she told him softly.

He wouldn't have went that far.

"I had a great time tonight, Emma," he told her. "I hope that you did as well."

She was quiet for a moment. Why?

"I did, Killian," she finally said. It was quiet, too. "It was really nice. Every part of it."

"Emma." Another _damn…_ She was doing things to him that were unexpected. Never had he expected. "I feel the same way. I… I will text you later, okay?"

"Okay." It was with a smile in her voice. She really was happy. "Send pics."

"Will do. Good night, Emma."

"Good night, Killian."

The phone disconnected, but it didn't stop the connection he had to him.

Completely unexpected. But he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Expect a ratings change coming up! Although I am not a smut writer, sometimes duty calls... **


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: Two things: (1)This is the chapter where the rating changes, and (2) I'm not a smut writer...**

**Oh, right! Comments are so very appreciated...**

* * *

><p>She liked his apartment. She liked… that it had felt like a home. That had been something to get used to. The two apartments were nearly identical in makeup, but there was a distinction in what he had done with the place.<p>

She hadn't expected that the first time she had come over. She remembered her initial shock and the reason for it.

Emma glanced across the room, her eyes resting on Killian with her son at the table. Their heads were both bowed, seemingly in deep discussion over the pictures that had been recently developed. It had been a passing hobby of Henry's, this photography thing. It was something that she had not thought that would hold his attention in the way that it had. But…

Killian had encouraged it. Killian had went the extra steps in offering resources to Henry. He worked with people whose profession was photography. He was always up to idea of exploring different places and different things to shoot to just further the craft.

Killian had bonded with her son. Had made a friend out of Henry. A friendship that had been separate from that of theirs.

The first time that she had come over, it had been with a heated misgiving and feelings of mistrust. It had been a blinder towards being able to appreciate everything that had been in front of her.

It was sudden, as she found herself deep in thought…

Killian's head turned, popping up and turning in her direction. There was something in those blue eyes. Something that she couldn't quite define as he winked at her.

He did something to her heart, she realized, watching as he turned his attention back to the table and the pictures.

When was she going to regret it? When was she going to realize that she was opening up too much to someone? When was it going to hit her that happiness and Emma Swan did not go hand and hand?

Was this right? Sometimes… sometimes, no…

Because she was Emma Swan. She was the woman who kept everything and everyone at a distance. She was the woman who knew that certain things weren't meant for her. That they couldn't be.

And then… Sometimes, yes…

Because he was Killian Jones. He was the man who had wanted nothing from her but… her. He made it seem as if _she _was enough. Doubts and fears and issues. She was enough. And he liked her. He really liked her.

Emma felt the chill run through her body at that thought. Scary.

Didn't he know her? He did know her. And… he liked her.

Emma wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself tightly as she turned away from them. Her eyes scanned the rest of the room. She took in the paintings that hung there for more than just decoration. It was an expression of him. She took in the drawing books- she had already counted three in the room. Another part of Killian Jones.

So many facets to the man… And she… she liked them all.

Emma threw a quick look back over at him. And…

She was throwing caution to the wind. Sometimes it was easy to be alone. Sometimes, alone was the fate that she had been dealt. And then there were other times that she realized that alone was the fate that she had dealt herself. Killian made her feel as if it didn't have to be that way…

It was amazing whenever she let herself believe it as well as feel it…

* * *

><p>"All done?"<p>

The question made her sigh. She was sure that he hadn't meant anything explicit in his question. He had only wanted to know if she was finished with dinner. It was just that…

He was incredibly close while sitting on the couch next to her. Close enough for his shoulder and knee to bump against hers as he turned into her.

"Um…"

Emma's gaze slid from Killian to look at Henry. Where she would have normally discouraged the distraction of the iPad being out and used at the same time they were having dinner, she silently thanked God that he'd been focused somewhere else. Until he looked up at her from his seat in the chair across from them...

He only gave her a hint of a smile- it couldn't have been a knowing smile- before he turned back to the screen.

"All done," Emma sighed, turning back to Killian. "Yes, I am."

It was only her imagination that he was looking at her mouth. Or only her imagination that he was looking at her as if he wanted to kiss her right then and there.

He was still watching her. For a solid moment, he stared at her with a smile on his face. And then he moved.

"Then I'll clean all of this up."

Killian was grabbing at the empty containers spread out on the coffee table that were all left from the Chinese take-out.

"Unless you want to give me a hand, love."

His eyes slid back towards her, a twinkle and something else being found there.

Emma tried to ignore the way he said it. She tried to ignore the endearment that she knew was generic and used for everyone else. But it was the look on his face that had actually drawn her in. The look that made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, he _had_ been looking at her mouth with thoughts of kissing her.

"Sure." She shook her head as she stood up from the couch.

"Oh." Killian straightened. "Can you grab my phone that was beside me? I can show you the pictures of Connor that Liam sent."

Emma turned then, finding the phone on the other end of the couch. She slipped it into the back pocket of her pants before moving to the table.

He'd already grabbed up most of the trash. It was a one-person job, she was sure. But, with just one more glance at Henry as he slid through windows on the iPad, she picked up the glasses and plates that he'd left.

It wasn't an everyday occurrence. It wasn't this thing where they needed to share dinner together as a threesome. But some nights…

It's why she had looked back at Henry. She knew that he liked Killian. She knew that they got along well. So what did it mean to be this open in front of him? What did it look like to everyone, involved or not, to see this setting?

Emma followed Killian as he led them into the kitchen. She might not know what it looked like on the outside, but from the inside it looked… It looked really nice from the inside…

She passed by him, moving slowly towards the sink, each step careful as she tried to make sure her mind didn't go anywhere that it didn't need to go.

She felt him slip behind her a moment before she felt his bearded cheek graze her own. His lips planted a quick kiss there, holding for all of a second.

"I've wanted to kiss you for an hour and forty-seven minutes now," Killian murmured softly into her ear.

If she let herself think about it, she tried not to let herself think about it, then Emma was sure that she would have been waiting just as long for that kiss.

Standing behind her, Killian placed a hand on the sink, trapping her between the two. It was the smallest things that got her heart to race…

Emma started to turn, but he stopped her with his other hand falling to her waist. It slid across to her back and began a trail farther down.

"Ah, here we go."

His phone slipped from her pocket then, grabbed up by him.

"I can show you the pictures."

It made Emma smile. It was a good thing that she hadn't let her mind wander any farther…

She finally turned around in his arms, still trapped by that arm that held on to the sink. It was with a shake of her head that she tried to clear her mind of invading thoughts. Thoughts of Killian.

He was close. Close enough to appreciate the stains of pink high in his cheeks. Close enough to make out that scare on his left cheek. How had he gotten it? She had yet to ask just yet. She was close enough to those pinker than pink lips that were pursed as he flipped through his phone. The same lips that had kissed her. The same lips that she had grown to know on an intimate level. She was close enough to make out the reddish hue of his beard. The same beard that always felt good under her hands and on her skin.

It was all of a sudden that he looked up at her. All of a sudden that he had turned those blue eyes on her.

A second passed. Then he smiled.

"What are you thinking about, Emma?"

She was slow to shake her head. "Nothing." Because it was a bit embarrassing to be fawning over the man. Just a man.

Killian watched her quietly. His eyes travelling over her face, pinpointing on certain spots.

Sometimes it felt as if he knew what she was thinking. And sometimes that wasn't a good thing. Emma was sure that there was now a tinge of pink in her own cheeks at that thought.

"To hell with the pictures," Killian murmured lightly. The phone fell on the counter next to the sink, and she was once again trapped in his arms.

His mouth fell over hers, kissing her softly.

It was the kiss she wanted. Hints of hunger hidden under the guise of propriety. Her son was a room away. Still… Her hands came up to stroke the hair-roughened cheeks that felt so good.

When did she become this person? Well… Emma always loved the idea of love…

She pushed that thought and him away. Not…

"I would like to see Connor," Emma said softly, turning her head away from him.

There was a low growl that escaped from somewhere down deep. And if she could leave him a little frustrated after having her own thoughts turn, well…

Killian's bottom lip was enveloped with his teeth, fighting back the urge to grin.

"Yeah, well."

He grabbed at the abandoned phone with a sigh. Unlocking the screen, the picture of baby Connor, in all his glory, appeared front and center.

That was all it had taken though. The smile of Killian's face was one of pride now as he looked down at the screen.

"Does it feel like nearly three weeks to you?"

That question had a lot of meaning to her.

That night had not only signified Connor's birth, but had signified a defining moment in their relationship.

Nearly three weeks ago…

"Yeah, it feels like it."

Had he picked up on something in her tone? Killian looked at her again, his eyes pinpointing once again.

Maybe it was from being this close to him. Maybe the amount of time that had passed had been inescapable, causing her thoughts to always be conflicted about it.

"I can see you in him," Emma said quietly. She looked down at the picture that had to have been taken within the last day or so. "Rather, he looks like Liam."

"Aye, I see a lot of Liam," Killian agreed. "A Jones, that is for sure."

He was wrapped up in nothing but a blanket. His eyes were closed in this picture, but Emma remembered the trait that was visibly Ruby's. They were green, like his mother's. The soft hair on his head was a sandy color. She wasn't sure which way it was going to go just yet. But it was the nose and the chin that could not be denied. Emma would agree: a Jones, for sure.

"Liam did it," Killian said with a laugh. "Secured a new generation."

"Proud uncle Killian, huh?"

He laughed again, flipping through the pictures.

"Proud Uncle Killian."

It was something about the way he laughed. It was something about the way he watched with a pride and happiness that couldn't be denied. It was the fact that family had been everything. He was genuine. True. Qualities that she…

"So Ruby asked about you." He looked up at her then, an eyebrow raising.

It made her squirm. That statement could have led to anywhere.

"She would love it if I brought you over with me to see Connor. You'll get to finally meet him in person. And see how amazing he is."

It was also the way he incorporated her into his life. It was with little effort. It was as if it was the most natural thing to do.

"I'd like that." She wouldn't second guess it. It would have been so easy to do the back and forth thing…

"Really?" Killian straightened up at that. Maybe it had been a pleasant surprise to him at how easy it had been.

It only made her cave in somewhat. Her shoulders hunched, closing in on herself.

"Really."

"Emma?" The smile on his face was small as he put the pictures of the baby away. The phone slipped into his own pocket then, and he turned that smile on her. "You know how I've told you that you sometimes blow my mind?"

He'd said it before…

"Yeah?"

"Well…" Killian's stretched his arms to entrap her again, pressing his body against hers. "You just did it again."

Emma felt it in her heart, the way it began to speed up. She spared the doorway to the kitchen only the quickest of glances before…

Her eyes closed, turning her face back into his. She felt the bump of his nose against hers, a soft caress that felt like… more. It was the fact that he took his time. It was because his lips ran across her cheek with silent… promises.

Sometimes it was hard to look back. Sometimes it was hard to deny that feelings were- _no!- _had come into play. Because here she was…

His lips were firm against hers. A kiss that promised and appreciated.

How had…

Emma would probably always question it. That was just who she was. But it didn't mean that her kiss couldn't be full of promises and appreciation as well.

She kissed him back. In the moment, she was able and willing to give as much as she received.

* * *

><p>"I think I'm going to ask Dad about this camera."<p>

Henry bounced down on her bed with iPad in hand.

"It's not too expensive, I don't think." He looked up at her from her spot by the dresser. "Not like some of the others. If I say that it's the only thing that I want, do you think he'd get it?"

Knowing Neal?

"I'm sure you can get him to get it for you," she assured him.

Although Henry didn't use it to his advantage, or at least he didn't abuse the idea of it, Neal was one of those parents who would have liked to fill the gaps of his absence with things if at all possible. So as a gift, she was sure that he wouldn't mind spending a little bit more to make his son happy from so many miles away.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest as she looked him over.

"You're having a lot of fun with all of this, huh?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah. And it's all because of Killian." He looked up at her then. "I'm really glad that things happened like they did."

That made her curious.

"What do you mean?" Even asking the question made her a bit nervous.

"I'm glad that you didn't make us stop talking and hanging out," he answered her innocently enough. "I didn't know if you were going to stay mad at him and never talk to him. But now?"

It was the way he had said _but now…_

"But now what?" Emma asked him.

"Now…" Henry rolled his eyes and the smile on his face was bigger than it should have been. "You two like each other. It's like you two _more _than like each other. Mom?"

Okay, now she was more than uncomfortable. Every time she thought that she saw herself letting him in a little more, she saw it as a positive. Except when she was confronted by it by someone else.

"Henry?" She said his name slowly. Carefully.

"I like him a lot better than I ever liked Walsh."

His statement came out of nowhere. The comparison of Walsh to Killian… It signified things that she knew her son must have been thinking. And she didn't know if she wanted him to be thinking of Killian in those terms. Because if Henry was thinking about Killian on the level that he'd thought of Walsh- and who Walsh had been in her life- then it would only intensify those thoughts in her own head.

"I can see why you would like Killian more than you liked Walsh, but there is really no comparison, Henry," Emma told him softly. "They are completely different and your situations with them are just as different."

"Okay, Mom," he told her softly. But, again, it was the way he had said it. As if he had already formulated his opinion on the matter. And that Emma wasn't going to blind him to what was right in front of them all.

* * *

><p><strong>10:07p.m.<strong>

_What are you doing?_

_**Nothing. Just getting out of the shower.**_

_I was thinking about you._

_**What were you thinking?**_

_Lots of things._

_**Sounds pretty vague.**_

_Oh, not vague in the least._

_I had a good time tonight._

_**So did I. **_

_**I hope we're not confusing my son.**_

_Why would you say that? Did he say something?_

_**Typical comments and questions, I guess, when we spend as much time talking as we do.**_

_And what is the confusing part, Emma?_

_**You know.**_

_I've never had to explain my intentions of dating to someone before. Especially to a teenager._

_**Did you just put a title on us? "Dating."**_

_Title? I would categorize it as the situation. Dating. Does that sound wrong?_

_Does it sound like too much?_

_**Not when you put it like that.**_

_Good._

_I like dating you._

_**I like getting to know you.**_

_**I like a lot of things about you.**_

_There is a lot more of me to get to know AND to like about me._

_**Am I supposed to be reading something into that? It sounds boastful.**_

_But definitely not misleading._

_Where's Henry?_

_**He's asleep.**_

_Sounds promising._

_**Why promising?**_

_I want to hear your voice in my ear._

_**What does that have to do with Henry being asleep?**_

_I want to be able to feel you at the same time your voice is in my ear._

_Do you feel up to coming over for a while?_

_**I'd love to hear your voice, too. **_

_And what about being able to feel me at the same time, Emma?_

_**I'd love that, too.**_

_**Give me five minutes?**_

_The door will be open for you._

* * *

><p>"Hey."<p>

The door had been opened, but he was right there waiting for her.

It was something about the way he looked at her. There was a hint of guard about him. Not like hers. As if there was something that he had to keep at bay within himself.

There was a nervous tension running through her. It was because of… many things. Texting allowed meanings to be misinterpreted. She didn't know if she was misinterpreting him. Except his eyes seemed to agree. To agree with everything that she had wanted, but had been too afraid to commit to.

"You wanted to see me?" The question left her mouth quietly. The nervousness was only growing.

His eyes looked hungry. A quiet hunger that was far from sated. She could relate, because she felt…

They had been doing this dance for a long time now. He had been patient with her. Never pushing or suggesting. And she had appreciated it. Even in those moments where she knew it would have taken nothing but the tiniest push in the right direction.

"How are you doing?" Killian asked the question with a smile. He was unmoving, standing some feet away from her and the door.

"I'm…" There were many answers to that as well. "Fine."

His forehead crinkled at that response, and his lips puckered.

"I should be honest with you," he told her slowly. He nodded. "I can be honest with you, right, Emma?"

She took in a deep and involuntary breath of air.

"You should be honest with me," she agreed. "It's one of the things I like most about you."

Killian nodded again, slowly, as he stared at her.

"Honesty. Okay. Emma?" The frown deepened even more. "I'm a little _less _than fine."

She hadn't expected that response. A response that could have meant…

"What's wrong?"

Killian paused at the question, taking another moment to just watch her.

"The thing is..." The murmur was followed by a sweep of his thumb over his lip, before that hand fell out in front of her. "I want you."

Her chin lifted, taking in the solemnity of his tone. Because for all the ways that they had tiptoed around the idea since the end of their first date, he'd kept the fact that there was a _want _out of the equation. But…

It wasn't hard to see. It had never been difficult to see. So the need to be honest laid at her feet.

It had been a very long time for her. She had her pick of reasons. Didn't he understand what he was asking from her? Because she understood what she was asking of herself. She was asking herself to let someone new in completely. Because this would mean completely. Wholeheartedly. This meant no going back.

"I want you, too."

It was an admission that called for all bets to be off.

"Thank you."

It had rushed out of his mouth gutturally. There was a twinkle in his eye that disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. It was replaced by that same fierce desire that had been there before. Only this time, there was no need for barriers.

He covered the distance between them in the matter of a second, his mouth finding hers and his hands reaching around and claiming her ass without a bit of hesitation.

Why had that taken her by surprise? Why had the energy he'd expelled in taking her surprised her?

Emma gasped into his mouth, shaking already as she returned his kiss. This was different. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, she tried to match his intensity, sliding around his neck and dragging him even closer. He was different.

Killian was always a body of hard muscle, but his arms felt like a steel vice as he held her against him. And he had never grabbed at her that way. His hands moving over her bottom, pressing her against his hardness.

She felt the nervous tension entering her body and her mind. It was the feel of a hand crawling inside the pajama bottoms. Crawling inside her panties. His hand was already roaming and cupping at her bare ass, dragging her over him, when that other hand dug inside. This one didn't follow the lead of the first. The elastic bands of both pajamas and panties were stretched out, no longer making contact with one side of her waist. The hunger of his kiss was distracting, but…

Emma felt the way both hands splayed over her hips, stretching the cloth all the more. They stayed just like that for a short moment, swaying her hips so that she brushed against that hardness.

She heard the sharp intake of breath as his mouth broke away from hers.

"Am I going too fast for you?" he murmured thickly, his lips a whisper against her skin.

Killian. She hadn't put on the brakes. She hadn't stopped him or them. It was him. He had stopped to ask if he was moving too fast. For her.

Emma shook her head, her eyes meeting his.

"No. We're not going too fast."

He watched her, to make sure. But she saw the fire in that gaze.

Emma brought her hand up to the back of his head, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. She watched as his eyes slid closed with a sigh on his lips, loving that she had an affect on him. _She _affected _him_. It was the thought she had as she brought his head down, taking his lips with her own, and kissing him.

What started out as slow, with each holding the other pressed to them, quickly heated up again. Heated up and spilled over into something more. Something that could no longer be contained.

A ravenous mouth sipped at hers. A hard as steel arm wrapped around her back. A quick and fluid hand pulled at the pajamas and panties together, pulling them down from waist and over hips. Before she had time to process the magnitude of all of those things, before her clothes had a chance to slip to her feet, she was being lifted. He was lifting her off her feet and into his arms.

Her eyes slammed shut at the feel of her back slamming into the door. God! Why did that feel so good? Why did gripping at his hips as he fit his body against hers feel so damn good? Why did the feel of one hand cupping her thigh as he kissed her breathless have her head swimming?

"Oh, damn."

She'd moaned it out loud, she knew. His answer had been a low growl and a thrust of his middle into hers. Did he have to fit so damned perfectly?

It was all of a sudden. Emma felt his fingers right there. The stiffening of her back as it pressed against the door and the tightening of her legs around his hips was instinctual. She wasn't a virgin. She wasn't virginal. It was just that… it had been so many years….

"Oh, Emma, you're…"

She was grateful that he hadn't finished that thought. She felt the blush creeping over every inch of her skin.

His mouth was back on hers, his kiss deep and intense. But it was difficult to concentrate just on that.

Her body was a betrayer. Her body had become an instant lover of his, because…

Her mouth opened in a gasp at the feel of his fingers against her. An insistent mouth had nothing on insistent fingers.

"I don't want to stop." The groan tore out of Killian as if the act of stopping would kill him instantly.

Why would he say that?

"Don't stop."

It was the only encouragement he needed. A finger slid just inside of her, and…

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, but the whimper couldn't be stopped. The shudder, as he slid his finger out and then back in even deeper, was uncontrollable.

Maybe he should have stopped. Maybe this was wrong. Because it felt too…

"Ooh!" It was a shuddered moan.

No, it was right. Never stop. Because it felt…

"Killian!" Her mouth shut tight, swallowing another moan that threatened to escape at the feel of his fingers.

"Emma, please."

There was an increasing amount of pressure building up inside of her. Too much pressure too soon.

"Don't hold back," he muttered. His hips were moving in time with the now two fingers that were pressing in and out of her. "Come for me… just like this, Emma. Please."

Why was he… _God! So much pressure! God! It felt too good!_

She felt it building up in her. She felt it already, with just his fingers sliding inside her over and over again. She felt the tremors beginning to take her over at the feel of his thumb caressing that sensitive nub at the same time.

"Killian!" It was a whimper of pure confusion.

"Yes, Emma." His face buried into the crook of her neck, pressing closer against her and into her at the same time.

Too deep. Too expertly.

"I… Killian!"

"Will you come for me, Emma?"

Why?

She gave up. She couldn't hold it back any longer _(good girl, Emma)_. Feeling the way her eyes rolled to the back of her head_(yes, Emma)_, hearing the cry leave her mouth_(come just for me)_, she held on tight to him as the orgasm washed over every part of her _(yes, Emma)_.

Why? The orgasm was intense, wracking her body with shudders and leaving her clenching over those fingers inside her. Leaving her clutching at every part of him that she could.

Killian, holding up the entire weight of her body, pressed her into the door. A smattering of incoherent words of praise was mumbled against her neck. A trail of kisses from ear to cheek followed.

God, what had he done to her?

"Killian?" Emma was slow to open her eyes. "Killian?"

"Yes?"

Taking in gulps of air, she waited until he pulled back to look at her.

"Emma?"

Slowly, and without any embarrassment(she refused to be embarrassed), she loosened her grip on his waist. Her eyes fell to a spot on his shoulder as she let herself slip down away from him, detaching her body from his. Refused still, as she felt her pajama pants that were pooled on the floor at her feet.

What in the hell had he just done to her?

"Love?"

Emma looked back up at him. His darkened eyes were scanning over her, his hands almost but not quite touching hers.

"Are you okay?"

He wanted to touch her. She knew that he wanted to touch her. She saw it in the slight tremor of his hands that were so close to her. She saw it in his eyes, which were a mix of lust and caution.

He was waiting for her.

"I'm okay." Standing there half naked in front of him, she was okay. Standing before him after he'd… She was sure that she was most likely glowing, as well as tingling, from what had just happened.

"Are you-"

Emma grabbed at his hands, pulling them around her waist. She stopped his question with a kiss. Holding on to him, her lips slipped over his, kissing him softly.

She wondered what the tremor in him signified. Had he feared that she would want to turn and run? Understandable, if so. But she didn't want to turn and run…

Her hands slid slowly up his arms, feeling the smoothness from over the steeliness.

"Don't stop, okay?"

"God dammit, Emma." The murmur was sandwiched between kisses, those arms closing around her and squeezing tight. Then his hands were on the move. They ran down her hips, digging into her firmly. Her name slipped from his mouth, over and over, as he caressed her.

The ache was starting all over again at the feel of his hands over her. Emma heard her own moans as her eyes squeezed shut.

"Emma."

Her hands came up to reach for him, before…

He began to turn her. The hands smoothing over her hips began to twist and turn her. His mouth fell over her neck, kissing his way to the back once he'd finally turned her completely around.

There was a nervous tension washing over her as she placed her hands, instead of on him, on the door. Her eyes opened just slightly, listening to the harried unbuckling on the belt, unfastening of the button, the pulling down of the zipper from behind her. They shut tight once more, with a rushing of air out of her body, as his arm closed around her waist and dragging her back against him.

If it hadn't felt so right, so good, would she have stopped him?

Killian. His hands. His mouth.

Emma whimpered at the feel of him against her. He was a man who could take charge, she mused, loving the way his grasped her arm and shackled it to the door with his own. Loving the feel of his weight as he leaned into her. Loving the way he nibbled at her ear…

The whimper was close to a cry now…

Three years…

And oh how quickly her body had betrayed her!

She pressed back, shuddering at once at the feel of him.

Three years…

And all she wanted was him…

All of a sudden, his arm stiffened around her waist. His mouth moved from her ear and pressed, instead, hard into her shoulder and pausing there. He pulled back away from her.

"Emma, I'm sorry."

He'd stopped to… apologize?

"What?" It was a moan of frustration. She wanted the weight of his body against her. And he had pulled away.

"I shouldn't have…" Killian's entire weight gone. His mouth disappeared from her shoulder, and his arms that had been around her waist and pressed against her own on the door were gone.

"It was just… that I needed you."

Emma, confused and feeling disheveled, turned back to face him.

"Then have me." It was a whine borne from needing more of him. She was in need of him. All of him. What had he done to her? Because she was in need to _give _all of herself.

Killian searched her face, his eyes locking on her. There was a string of curses that fell from his mouth as he grabbed at her hand.

"I don't want to stop. It's just…"

Emma felt her eyes widen in expectation. In wait.

"You deserve better than a rushed and heated moment against a door," he finally told her softly, pulling her into him.

And she could breathe again. Because he wasn't stopping.

"At least as a first time." Killian was able to offer her an easy smile before it turned into something else. Something much more than easy. "Come on."

Emma let him pull her away from the door. He wanted to take her to his bed. But…

"No."

Killian was quick to turn around to her.

"What?"

"Here," she whispered. "We're right here." Her eyes slid across on the couch that was only feet away versus rooms away. "I don't want to wait."

There was a question on his face, but a glint in his eyes.

"You, Emma Swan…" His arm was around her waist, pushing her back in the direction she wanted to go in. "Are a marvel."

Her smile was hidden in their kiss. A kiss that set her body off and yearning already.

"Damn… Emma?"

She felt the back of her legs bump up against the couch even as he spoke.

"What?" Her arms wrapped around his neck, ready and willing for him to lie her down on that couch with him following right after her.

"Promise me something, love." It was oddly grave. Important. Important enough to leave them hanging precariously over the couch.

"Promise what?"

His lips found hers, kissing her softly on their way down.

Soft kiss. Promising kiss. Aching kiss. A kiss that brought back memories of what he could do to her.

"Promise me…" Killian's hand gripped at her bare thigh, running the entire length of her leg. "That this isn't a one-time thing. Promise me that you will remember this _tomorrow. _No matter if it's by text, by phone call, or in person. Promise me you won't forget this."

Emma had watched him during the entirety of him sharing his request. She focused on his words and not the way his weight felt unbelievably wonderful. Or how it didn't matter that her pajama top reached to mid-thigh, but in reality she was half-naked and he was completely clothed. No. She focused on his words.

"I promise." She promised. Maybe too easily.

"God dammit, Emma." His mouth fell over hers then, pressing her down on the couch with his weight. "I'm holding you to that, love."

And that was scary. His needs.

She'd promised.

But for now…

Killian's mouth. His hands. His body. His moan.

He was an escape that every part of her needed.


	13. Chapter 12

Killian recognized the distinctive knock on the door, glancing over that way. He was early, he realized as he hefted his satchel down on the couch in front of him.

"It's open," he called out, loud enough to be heard beyond the door.

It made him smile to see Henry walking into the apartment, all smiles himself.

"Hey, Killian." Henry sounded just as excited as he looked. It was going to be cold outside. Even colder as they made their way up to the observatory. At least he was bundled up in preparation for it.

"Hey, Henry." Killian's smile grew. "Are you all ready to go?"

"I'm all ready." He said it with a shrug and bright eyes. "I wanted to say thanks, too, Killian, for letting my friend come along."

"All in more fun, yes?" Henry had wanted to bring a friend, and it had seemed like a good sign. He took it as meaning that their friendship was a cool one. One that didn't have to be hidden or glanced over to his peers. A good sign.

Henry nodded at that. "It's going to be great. The whole day is going to be great. I've _been_ to the observatory before, of course. But never to be able to takes pictures. Well, not with a real camera or anything."

"Ah, the camera." Killian grabbed at his coat that was lying on the couch beside the bag.

"What?" There was an instant curiosity about Henry at that moment, his head quirking as he watched him. "You were able to get it, weren't you?"

Killian watched him as he slipped into his coat, keeping the smile down to a minimum. There was something to be said about seeing a joy in Henry and being able to share in that something. The fact that it was something that Killian had had a hand in only made it a greater achievement. Their friendship hadn't been about Emma. No, not at all. It was about them. So to have both entities, to have Henry as a friend who looked up at him in a mentoring way _and _to have him be the son of the woman he… Well, it was a uniqueness that he was quite fond of.

"I have the camera," he assured him.

The curiosity was replaced by a look of excitement on the boy's face. An excitement at the prospect of an afternoon filled with gazing out and capturing their beautiful city.

"In fact," Killian continued, "it's back there in my bedroom on the dresser. Why don't you run back there and get it while I finish getting ready."

"On your dresser?" He was moving already. "Okay. I'll be right back."

Killian smiled to himself again as he watched Henry move across the room. It wasn't only about the idea of them getting along. It wasn't only about being able to connect with the boy on some level. There was also a bit of pride about the situation. Pride in Henry and the young lad that he was. Pride in the strength and character of Emma's son.

He didn't have the family dynamics that his brother had. But, for some reason, there was a growing dynamic in the relationships he had with Henry and Emma that sort of filled that void. A strange occurrence, if he let himself think on it too long. A nice occurrence though, as he thought on what they'd both brought to him.

His mind conjured up thoughts of her. An improper thought, at first. A memory of a night that rivaled any previous dream… He only let the thought stay for a second, being bombarded of other things about her that he had deemed so intriguing. The way she had opened up to him. The way she touched him softly and looked at him with eyes that were open to… so much.

What had happened to the closed-off neighbor of long ago? How had he did the impossible? Or maybe it was she who had done the impossible, in him.

The ringing phone from off was what took him from his musings.

Killian finished adjusted the coat, buttoning himself into it, before he scooped the ringing phone into his hand.

The intake of breath was sudden, his mind turning in all directions by the name presented to him.

It had been… It had been a long time. It had definitely been before Emma. And before Emma seemed like so long ago…

Ignoring the call would be one thing. But it wouldn't put a stop to it. Maybe… It was Emma's eyes that came to mind. Maybe putting a stop to it- putting a stop to them- was exactly the right thing to do. So… answer the phone.

"Hello."

"Hello to you, too." Her voice was a soft whisper. It was inviting and definitely friendly.

"Jessica. How are you, darling?"

He had liked her. She had always been easy to get along with. Alluring and lovely. Yet… there was no comparison.

"I've been okay," Jessica assured him. "I just haven't been in touch with you in a while."

Well, she hadn't called him and he hadn't called her…

"It's been quite some time," Killian murmured in agreement.

And then it began. He listened to each word with caution, hearing and knowing what exactly was coming. The question came as to where did he stop her. When did he make her pause about how work has been going, how nights have been a little lonelier the past few week or so, or how there was only one solution to that problem?

Killian offered a small laugh into the phone.

"Jessica, love?"

"When are you going to make time for me, Killian?" Ah, and there it was!

Killian heard the steps falling from the hallway. Of course it didn't take long for Henry to grab the camera bag and bound back out of the room. Especially when it was the start of their day together.

"Jessica, that's going to be a problem, love," Killian said quietly into the phone.

He saw Henry then. He saw how the bag was hugged against his chest, holding it close to him.

"What is the problem?"

Jessica's confused question, and the expectant look on Henry's face, made him feel trapped in a situation that he was not ready for.

"Are you ready to go now, Killian?"

"Killian?"

"One minute, okay?" he said into the phone. "Henry?" He pointed a finger at the boy. "I only have to finish this call. And then we can be on our way."

Henry was slow to nod, possibly wondering why there had been a change in him.

"Okay, Killian."

"Why don't you go and take your bag and the camera out to the car?" he told him, moving then towards the door. "I'll be right out."

Henry didn't move as fast as Killian had. His steps were slow as he looked up at him.

"Right out," Killian assured him with a smile.

"I'll be outside waiting then." Henry offered him a shrug on his way out of the door. He didn't look at him this time, making the trip down the hall.

Killian eyed him the entire time. He waited until the door opened and Henry made in onto the porch before he brought the phone back to his ear.

"Jessica." It came out as a sigh.

"You seem busy," she said lightly. Not miffed, but there seemed to be a twinge of something in her voice.

"I'm sorry about not giving you my attention, love." He said it sincerely. He meant it just as sincerely. He didn't know how she would take the news.

"It's okay," Jessica assured him. He heard the smile in her voice. He heard the demure coming back. "I'm not surprised that you're busy. I figured that it must be part of the reason I haven't heard from you. I do believe that this is the longest I've gone without talking to you."

The smile crept onto his face. She had been one of his favorites.

"There's something that I must be honest with you about, Jessica," he told her slowly. Coming right out seemed like the best idea.

"What is it?"

She didn't expect anything. Didn't expect that their last time was going to be… their last time.

"Ah… Jessica?"

"_What _is wrong with you, Killian?" Spit it out, was what she was saying.

"Okay." He paused again. When was the last time he'd had to confess about a relationship to one of his women friends?

"Jessica, I'm not going to be able to see you," he told her. It had been sincere and apologetic. "Not anymore."

"What are you-"

"I've met someone," he cut in, not giving her a chance to ask the question.

Where he'd thought her questions would have run all together, there was instead a pause.

"You've met someone?" Jessica asked slowly. "Are you telling me that the great Killian Jones is trying to settle down and be a one-woman kind of a man?"

_A one-woman kind of a man. _It made him smile again. Emma Swan as that one woman.

"You could say that, love," he whispered into the phone.

It was the entire package. It was the fact that she felt the need to keep so much in for only herself. It was the fact that she had let him in, so gradually. But she'd done it. It was the bits of humor she allowed herself to share. It was the way she gave _herself. _And she was beginning to give so much of herself.

"Killian?" It was full of skepticism, the way she said his name.

It had drew him back into her though. Jessica. Beautiful. Vivacious. But… no comparison could be drawn.

"Yes?"

She sighed. "I didn't see this coming."

Who had?

"I'm going to miss you. _And_ our nights together. Are you…" She sighed again. "Are you really sure about this?"

She'd asked if he was sure? It was the way she asked.

"I'm sure." It came out as a laugh. There was no doubt.

"So I won't get any late night calls a month or so down the line telling me that you've changed you mind?"

It made him squint, the idea of that possibly happening.

"No." Killian shook his head to himself. "I don't think so."

"Well, damn it." The curse was soft as well. "I guess we will see. And I guess I should let you go now."

Yes, that _would _be the way Jessica would have responded.

"I do have some things I'm in the middle of."

"This is it then, Killian. Goodbye."

She had been a staple in his life and in his bed, however frequently or infrequently, for the longest time. And now it was over.

"Goodbye, Jessica."

Killian heard the click of the phone in his ear, signifying more than just the end of the phone call. It was ending more that the singular relationship. What is was was the beginning of something. And part of that something was waiting for him outside.

He dropped the phone into his coat pocket, forgetting it for now. The satchel was still on the couch. It was a quick stop back at the couch, a quick grab of his bag.

Henry was waiting. And the day was just beginning.

* * *

><p>"He's sleeping, Killian."<p>

And in his arms. It was an amazing thing to see. How could he not think of what the future held for not only this tiny one, but also what the future held for his entire family? A family that was on the rise.

He looked over at Ruby, who was curled up into a ball on the couch. Connor might have been asleep, but the heaviness of her eyes told the tale of who was beyond tired.

"Aye, he's asleep." Killian's arms tightened around the quiet bundle, holding him closer to him.

"That means that you don't need to be holding him," Ruby said quietly. Her sudden and wide yawn stretched over her mouth being, covered belatedly with a hand.

"If I don't hold him when he's sleeping, then I'd never hold him," he remarked, shaking his head.

It earned him a laugh. A hysterical little laugh that had her head falling to the armrest.

Killian drew his eyes over to Liam, who came to stand behind her. There wasn't a smile there on his face. Instead, a sympathetic gaze down at his wife.

"May I guess?"

"His sleeping schedule… hasn't come quite together yet," Liam admitted. His hand came down over the top of Ruby's head. "He's up more often during the night than he is during the day."

"Is that so?" Killian's gaze fell back down over the baby in his arms. "Are you being a challenge already to your mom and dad? Well, that sounds about right, yes?"

Tiny. Connor was a tiny bundle. That was amazing. It was amazing that life started out like this right here: a tiny little thing that was dependent on those around him, to be taken care of for every single detail. To give life to the Jones' name, it meant this right here. And one day… maybe it would be his duty and privilege to add a branch to their tree. One day.

Killian looked back up at the new parents. Ruby, with her face buried into the arm of the couch, and Liam, leaning slightly over the back of it, both looked wary. The newness of the experience telling its tale.

"Don't you know that you are supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps?" he asked, offering an amused smile to the both of them. "Even I know that."

"You're very smart, Killian." The tone spoke of something loathsome.

The teasing was warranted, he thought. But seeing the dead exhaustion of his sister-in-law left a soft spot in his heart.

"Liam, why don't you tell your wife to take her butt to bed?" Killian asked with a grin. "You're about to pass out. Go do it somewhere comfortable."

"Ruby?" Liam leaned over the couch, his hand smoothing down from the top of her head to cup her cheek. "Killian is right. Why don't you go lie down in bed? I'll take care of Connor."

"Who will probably sleep during my entire visit anyway," Killian chimed in.

Her face turned up towards her husband. It was as if the suggestion had been so tempting and lucrative that she let the tiredness bleed out.

"Are you sure?"

It put a smile on Liam's face. His hand smoothed down her cheek again before he leaned down to kiss her.

"No need to worry. I'll take care of him."

"And he has me here for backup," Killian chimed in, offering a smile himself.

Ruby looked between the two and sighed heavily.

"Okay. I'll go take a nap." Her fingers gave a rough and quick massage to her scalp. It was with one more look up at Liam, and then she stood up.

She looked good. The weeks were falling away quickly, and so were the signs of the pregnancy. _Not _the signs of being a new mom, which were etched in every part of her. But she looked good.

Liam came around to the front of the couch, meeting Ruby with another quick and firm kiss.

"If you need anything- if _Connor _needs anything…"

"If there's anything I have the slightest doubt or question to, I will come to you," Liam assured her.

Ruby nodded, a nod that spoke of trust in his words.

"Okay. Okay." There was another sigh that left her lips as she turned to leave in Killian's direction. Or rather baby Connor.

"Do I get a kiss goodnight as well, love?" Killian murmured with a twitch of his lips.

She spared him a roll of her eyes as her hands came to caress at the small hands peeking out from underneath the blanket.

"I came to say bye to my son," she said softly. And there was a bit of softening that happened in her face as she looked at him. Some of the tiredness seemed to wash away.

Was that what it was like to be a parent? To just have one look at the face that you'd had a hand in creating would lead to everything in the world seeming fine again?

Ah! Family!

"Don't hold him the entire time, Killian," Ruby said, looking up at him.

"I promise."

She watched him for just a moment, those tired eyes turning on him. And then she moved closer and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"Goodbye." It was a tired murmur as she slipped away from him.

Killian watched her go until she disappeared out of the room and out of sight, heading for the one place she deserved to be more than anywhere else: her bedroom.

"Am I to be led into believing that parenthood isn't what I've been romanticizing it to be for quite some time now?" he asked ruefully, turning back around to his brother.

Liam smiled. "Of course not." His eyes fell over the bundle in Killian's arms. "It's amazing. Connor's amazing." He moved to stand in front of the couch and fell down onto it. "Look at him."

And Killian did. Yeah, there were bits of Ruby, but he was a Jones. All Jones.

"How can you not think about the future?" Liam asked, sounding in awe. "I have a son. Someone to teach and mold. Someone who will look for me to be the guiding light in his life. That's amazing."

"Aye, that it is," Killian agreed.

It wasn't only about securing future generations of their family line. It was about what Liam had just shared. It was about having someone who looked as one of the most influential people in their lives. It was about being that positive influence and seeing the growth that would come from it over a lifetime.

"One day, brother."

Killian smiled at that, the thought bringing with it other memories.

"Liam?" He found the tone to be solemn, even to himself.

"What is it?"

He looked at him sitting there and tried to decide how he wanted to go forward in the change in topics. His eyes fell back on Connor in his arms. His firstborn nephew. There would be more, he was sure. But Connor would always be first.

The bassinet was on the opposite side of the couch of where Liam sat.

"I'm going to lie him down now."

Liam was quick to stand up, meeting Killian at the bassinet as he walked over.

"Let me do it."

Was there some special way that babies must be laid into their bed? But, as he watched his brother with his son, maybe there was. There was a pride in seeing Liam care for Connor. And there was a pride in seeing his brother be a father.

There hadn't been a great role model in their own father. Not in the least. And yet here he was, being the role model for Connor.

"Look at you."

If there was awe in his voice, then maybe that was what Liam had picked up on. He looked at him, offering a smile.

"I'm proud of you, Liam," Killian told him. There was nothing but sincerity and brotherly love in his words.

"The pride goes both ways," he assured him.

"Yeah, well." Killian took another look into the bassinet, looking down at his nephew.

"Connor has you thinking."

Killian turned his head swiftly around to his brother.

Liam had already been watching him when he turned. An up and down look that was equivalent to a mental checklist.

"You have plenty of time," he told him. "It'll happen. Bachelorhood isn't in the cards forever, Killian, because that isn't what you want."

It might have been a thought that had ran through his mind. It might have crept up because he was seeing the beginnings of a new generation. It might have even been because bachelorhood was already creeping out of the scenario of his life.

"I… did something, Liam." It was slow and with thought. His eyes found his brother's. "So tell me if I'm foolish for it."

For a moment, he just watched him. Maybe anticipating his younger brother's next words. Liam crossed his arms over his chest, giving an encouraging nod.

"What did you do?"

It wasn't as if there had been an automatic negative reaction to that question. But, for whatever reason, Killian felt a nervousness wash over him.

"Does this have something to do with Emma?" The question came with a cock of his head.

"I like Emma." Killian nodded, the admission made easily.

"You've been looking pretty happy lately," Liam said in way of observation.

Killian watched him closely. He hadn't told him about that specific detail that had moved their relationship forward. He hadn't shared about the night that had brought her to his apartment. Or how she had been different than what he'd expected or what his dreams had concluded.

Timidity? Not so much…

"I would equate that to Emma."

Killian didn't mind that Liam's words had taken him away from thinking of the way she had been open to him…

He only smiled at the deduction.

"What did you do?"

His hand came up to stroke his chin. He wasn't nervous about sharing with Liam. The whole point in bringing up the conversation was to get his opinion. But… If anyone knew him, it was Liam. So… his opinion mattered.

"Do you remember Jessica?" Because it was a fair place to begin.

Liam blinked at him, the smile lifting one corner of his mouth.

"One of the others," he said softly. "I didn't know you were still seeing her." His frown was instant, the disappointment evident.

"Well, I'm not." Killian shook his head. "I haven't seen her in a really long time."

"Then?" He left it open.

"She called me," Killian explained.

The smile returned, but with a shake of his head. "And what does that mean, little brother? That you're going to start _seeing _Jessica again?"

It was his tone. As if it was the last thing he wanted him to do.

Killian took a step closer to Liam, a frown on his own face.

"Emma and I never spoke of being exclusive to one another. But… that's not the point."

"Then what's the point, Killian?" There was doubt in his question. If he had wanted to hide the disappointment from him, it wasn't working.

"The point that I was going to get to was that…" He shook his head again, looking right at Liam. "I told her about Emma. She called me, and I told her that I was seeing someone seriously."

The surprise on Liam's face was subtle. He stood up straighter, his eyes never leaving Killian.

"You just told me that you and Emma never spoke about being exclusive."

"And we haven't," Killian confirmed. "That doesn't change the fact that she was with no one before me, or that I haven't been with anyone else since this thing has started."

"I'm confused," Liam said slowly. "It's that what you wanted me to let you know if it was foolish or not? That you told one of your flings that you were seeing someone seriously?"

He said it as if that wasn't a huge step within either one of them. When Emma hadn't been with anyone in years. When he, himself, had never been concerned with the idea of commitment before.

"No, that's not it," Killian told him.  
>"No?"<p>

No, that wasn't it…

"It was after the fact," Killian said slowly, watching his brother. "Jessica was the catalyst is all." He took in a deep breath. He knew that Liam like the idea of Emma because it meant the ideas and dreams he'd had for him coming into fruition. But he knew that he liked the woman as well. There was a reason why they referred to her as _the one._

"It was a lot of women," he said in way of defense. "There were a few. I was mainly consistent. But…" He licked at his lips, pausing. "I went through my phone and got rid of everybody else." His eyes slammed on Liam's. "That was dumb, right? Like I said, we haven't talked about anything like that. It's way too soon. Too soon for Emma. The fact that we've come so far is a success unto itself. So I shouldn't have deleted the numbers. And the text messages. The pictures." He smiled at that. "I had a nice collection of beautiful pictures. And… I… got rid of… everything. That was dumb, right?"

Killian only noticed then how much he had said and how quiet Liam had been.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" he asked him warily.

He stayed quiet. But there was something about this type of quiet.

A hand came out to lie on his shoulder, and Liam finally smiled.

"You remember how I told you that I was proud of you, too, Killian?" he asked quietly. There was a twinkle of something in his eye as he watched him.

It made Killian smile.

"Of course I remember."

"Well, this is one of those things that make me really proud of you."

"_That _makes you proud?" He felt a bit dubious in Liam's response. He hadn't known what the response was going to be, but proud hadn't crossed his mind. "I was thinking that by doing it on impulse like that, that eventually I'd regret it."

"Why? Why would you regret it?" Liam shook his head. "It's different with Emma." He'd said it so matter-of-factly that there seemed to be no room for doubt in his mind.

And it _was _different with Emma.

"What? Do you think that will change? Was it a conscious thought to not call any of the others during your quest to get Emma to open up to you? Or did you realize that your focus had been solely her _after _the fact?"

It had been after the fact. He'd wanted no one but Emma since she'd opened that door and let him in.

"I don't think that it'll change. She's…"

Explaining Emma. How did he do that?

"She's everything that I thought I wanted for my future, and everything that I didn't think I'd have."

It was a confession not only to Liam, but to himself as well. Emma had become…

"Then you have your answer: you did the right thing." He shook his head. "I had my doubts about you, little brother."

Liam's words surprised him, pulling him once again from budding thoughts of her. A frown laced his face.

"You had doubts? About me?"

"And now…" He smiled. "Now I don't."

Liam didn't elaborate. But Killian didn't need him to. He understood. He understood that Liam had wants and expectations for him. Even ones that Killian hadn't put much effort into living out himself.

"Well that's good to know," he muttered quietly.

"Saying it feels even better. So… a bit of advice to you, Killian? Hm?" His eyebrows went up, he tone a bit stern.

"Advice from my brother?" Killian shrugged lightly, already curious about what was about to fall from his mouth. "I'm always up for it."

"Whatever you do," he said gravely. And then, "Don't blow it."

Sound advice, he thought with a smile.

"I'm going to try my best to follow through with that advice," he assured him. "Thanks."

* * *

><p><strong>Friday 10:11p.m.<strong>

_What are you doing?_

_**Cleaning up the kitchen before I go to bed.**_

_Where's Henry? Asleep already?_

_**Yeah, Henry's asleep.**_

_It looks like I'll be right after him. _

_I have an early Saturday morning meeting followed by an interview that I have to prepare myself._

_**Busy Saturday. Which I can understand. I'll be spending a couple of hours at the store myself.**_

_Damn! Do you see how professions our trying to keep us apart? I think we need to show them that it's not that easy._

_**Lol How do we do that?**_

_Simple. Although I would MUCH rather have the opportunity of snuggling up together for a few hours, what I'm going to do is come give you a kiss goodnight._

_**Oh, yeah? OK. Come show them then.**_

_I'm on my way, love._

_._

Staring at their past conversation on the phone, it brought a smile to Killian's face. Sometimes it could be easy to question if he was in this thing alone. She had lowered some major walls in order to get to where they were now at.

Sometimes it was easy to see that she was in it just as much as he was, no matter what it had taken to get there.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. She wasn't supposed to be the one to get into his heart like no one had ever done before. But the truth was the truth. And…

Killian pulled the apartment door open, being greeting by the opposite door being already ajar.

He wouldn't have wanted it any other way.


End file.
